Of Gold and Mummies
by Se acerca el invierno
Summary: The moment her brother told her about the trip he'd planned with his friends, Eleanor Burns already had a bad feeling about this new "adventure". On the other hand, Adele Jennings thought her day would be as any other, assisting Miss Carnahan at the library. But when her employer's brother shows them an antique box he found at a dig... Well, then things get more interesting.
1. Prologue

**Title:**

Of Gold and Mummies

 **Author:**

Se acerca el invierno

 **Genre:**

Adventure, Romance, Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Family, Humor

 **Timeframe:**

1920's, follows most of the movie canon.

 **Summary:**

The moment her brother told her that he was planning with his friends a trip that would make them so rich that they'd be able to wipe their arses with bucks for the rest of their lives, Eleanor —Nellie— Burns already had a bad feeling about this _"adventure"_.

On the other hand, Adele Jennings thought her day would be as any other assisting Miss Carnahan at the library. But when her employer's brother shows them an antique box he found at a dig… Well, then things get more interesting...

 **Rating:**

T — Just to be sure. Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 12-14

 **Warnings:**

This fanfiction's main characters are OC —original character—, so if you don't like romance between a canon character and an original one, then this is definitely not your story.

 **Author's notes:**

Welcome everyone to my story! Before starting with the reading, I'd like to let you know a few things first.

Since as long as I can remember, I've always loved _"The Mummy"_ and its sequel. Pretty much, anything related to Ancient Egypt. After reading several fics, some of them _really_ good, some others not so much, I decided to try my own at the cliché "sister-fic", buuut... Just not the average Rick's sister. No matter how much I like those, I think there are enough of them for now. As for Henderson... Well, in most fics I read he always is either a sexual harasser or the booby prize for the OC until he gets killed, so I decided to give the guy a break.

English is not my first language, so consequently, I'm looking for a beta but still haven't found it. If anyone is interested, please, don't hesitate to send me a PM. So I apologize first hand for any grammar mistake, etc, you may find. Also, I'll try really hard to keep my OCs from being Mary Sues; if you think something is wrong also don't doubt to tell me and I'll try to fix any mistake. If you want to say something about the story, or anything else, please, be respectful with everyone.

All opinions are very welcomed, especially constructive criticism so **please** , try to click the " _Review_ " button down there before leaving :) Without further delay, I'll leave you with the story. Here it goes!

* * *

 _ **OF GOLD AND MUMMIES**_

* * *

 _ **"** That money talks, I'll not deny, I heard it once: It said, 'Goodbye'. **"**_ \- Richard Armour

* * *

 _ **PROLOGUE. A new adventure**_

"You-did-what?" The female voice yelled out of anger.

"Shh!" Someone else hissed, trying to keep their voices down. "C'mon Nellie, think 'bout it! It's a perfect plan!" Answered optimistically the male voice. "We'll be rich! So rich that we'll be able to wipe our pale arses with bucks' that's what we want!" He grinned.

"No, Bernard Burns, we'll not be so rich ever, and you know why? Because you're going to take that pale arse of yours back to the bar where you were gambling in last night and take our money back," She said, striding up and down the small room where the senseless man she called brother had dragged her in to tell her about this _brilliant_ idea.

It was just past dawn in Virginia, and like every morning, Eleanor Burns was already up and ready to do her chores. The cottage at the outskirts of the city her parents owned was silent, as usual. Her Father, Isaac, was already working with the horses he bred at the farm attached to the house. Contrarily her Mother, Rose, was still in bed, resting. Her fever was slowly going down but she wasn't ready to get back to work yet.

She certainly hadn't expected to see her elder brother paying a visit. _"Bad news,"_ She thought when she spotted him talking amicably with their Father outside the house. He was wearing a blue shirt and that bow tie she liked so little, with his light brown pants tucked inside his high brown boots. He had already visited less than a couple of days ago to check on them, especially Mother and her, so why was he back so soon?

She turned her back to the slightly dusty window, reassuming the task she had been doing before and continuing to bend the now dry shirts which filled the wooden basket. Not long after, Eleanor heard the front door opening, letting her know that her brother was inside home now. After the greetings and smiles were exchanged between them, Bernie had gripped her arm firmly and dragged her into the most isolated room in the house. _"I need to tell you something important."_ He had said. _"It's brilliant!"_ He had assured her…

"Not to mention that Mother will be furious," she kept talking. "God help you if she finds out that you've wasted all of our money in another business with your friends. Then you won't have an arse to wipe!" Eleanor kept pacing, but suddenly, two strong hands grasped her shoulders, stopping her dead in her tracks and forcing her to look into her brother's eye through his rounded spectacles. His blue eyes were twinkling excitedly. She gulped, feeling so small compared to his tall frame…

"This' different Nellie, this' actually something worth risking! Don't ya wanna get hold of a higher class, a... a secure future for all us? We could buy medicines for Mother and you'll be able to move back to your own house. Wouldn't you like not to be forced to marry James? Because that's what we could get with this." She swallowed uncomfortably, moving her gaze from her brother to the dark wall standing at her right. "This is our chance, Nellie."

She quickly pushed his hands off her, turning around while twisting a lock of her long, dark hair. Eventually, she said. "You realize going there it's not as going for a ride around the fields, don't you? You'll have to go to another country at the other side of the world and-"

"We," he interrupted, grinning. She faced him again, a dumbfounded expression plastered on her face.

"Wh-what?" She stuttered.

"You coming too, little sis, Daniels' already got ya your passage." Eleanor gaped.

"Did you even consider that _maybe_ I wouldn't want to become part of this!" She said, walking up to him again.

"Oh, c'mon, we both know if you really didn't want to we'd not be discussing this, you'd have already gone to Daniels' place demanding our money back or simply told Mother." Bernard answered her, absolutely certain of how right he was. "Besides, where's your sense of adventure? You told me plenty a' times that you'd love to travel around the world, ever since you read that French book, the one about travelling 60 days."

"It's _80_ days." Nellie added. Bernard rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. You know, this could be your start..."

She rubbed her hands all over her face, frustrated. Her brother definitely knew how to play his cards... She finally looked up. "We have everything against us; we don't talk the language, we know _nothing_ of the manners of the country...! Oh, let alone about Ancient Egypt history, much less about this ghost city used to amuse Yankees like us... For God's sake, Bernie, we barely know about our own country's history!"

"Ah-ah, you're wrong! We have an interpreter, two dozens of native diggers who will tell us everything we should know 'bout the country an' who will also work for us. We even hired a guide and an Egyptologist!" He said.

Nellie frowned. "Who?"

"Dr. Allen Chamberlain, he's worked in the Metropolitan Museum. The fella said he also had an office somewhere in Egypt, so he knows the place too." She smacked her lips, still unsure.

"What about the guide?"

"A Bulgarian, the name's Beni Gabor; Henderson stumbled upon him one lucky evenin'. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but apparently he served in the French Foreign Legion as a legionnaire an' knows the way. Pay him half once we are in Cairo an' the rest once we return." Bernard answered confidently.

Deciding not to waste her breath telling him how suspicious that Bulgarian sounded just with that simple introduction, Eleanor started to pace again, unconsciously tangling her hands with the materials of her long, navy blue skirt. Was it really worth it? _"Well... There's no denying that all of us could use the money..."_ A little voice within her head said. With a deep frown in her forehead, she released her skirt and brought her hands back to cover her face once again. She knew Bernie was right... Another part of her had immediately jumped at the idea of travelling to Egypt as he told her the legend of that mysterious city. What was it called...? _"Hamunaptra",_ it sounded so tempting, so promising... What if, maybe just this once, she didn't think that much and instead acted?

She let out an audible sigh. _"This man is going to be the death of me."_ She couldn't help but think.

"So… when do we leave?" The words hadn't finished leaving Eleanor's lips when, without warning, her brother smiled broadly and crushed her body with a bear hug, slightly lifting her from the floor. Once her feet were back on solid ground, he kissed her cheek.

"You won't regret it, Nellie! This is gonna be a great adventure, ya'll see." Glancing briefly at his face, she couldn't help but feel infected by his enthusiasm and found herself smiling back.

"World, here we come…" she muttered.

* * *

A loud slam echoed through all the flat, as the woman who had stepped inside breathed heavily, with her arms busy carrying a large set of books, a small bag hanging from her left arm and several locks of auburn hair falling over her sweaty forehead and around her nape, where the bun she had hours ago was now a mess of hairpins and knots. Despite her annoyance, it wasn't her intention to close the door so forcefully... _Oops._

Striding quickly over to the nearest table, she allowed the heavy books to drop onto the wood board, the bag following not far behind. With the back of the hand, she pushed aside the hair from her face, sighing. Egypt's hot weather was something she would never get used to, and certainly would not grow fond of. No, she favored the rainy days and the cool temperatures of her native England.

Removing her thin jacket, the woman turned on her heels throwing the garment blindly over her shoulder, towards one of the chairs placed around the table. Water, she desperately needed water. After pouring herself a generous glass, she went back to the lounge of her flat. She saw the sun starting to set through one of the open windows. Some other time, Egypt's beauty would have drawn her to put her head out of the window and contemplate the golden sunset, but right now she was too tired and too moody to get sentimental.

Glancing around the place, she couldn't help but moan in complain at seeing the tons of papers scattered everywhere. She had always been an organized person, so what was wrong with her? _"Lack of patience and lots of nerves and self-criticism are definitely not a good combination, Adele"_ she told herself. Deciding to arrange everything before dining, she went to her bedroom to put on more comfortable clothes than her white blouse and her long skirt. Afterwards, she would get started with the assignments her employer had asked for. It was nothing outstanding, neither complicated, but Adele was more than happy to comply. She needed to sort out a few pharaohs' biographies and write the key points of them for the new exhibition that soon would take place in the Cairo Museum of Antiquities.

That's right, she was an archaeologist. Well, technically, an aspiring archaeologist, her chosen field being history of Ancient Egypt. Back in England, Adele had attended to Professor Julian Winter's classes at the University of Oxford. When her studies there got closer to their end, and her hopes for being part of the staff of the British Museum started to fade away after various rejections, Professor Winter talked her into giving a try to a whole different path and continue her studies abroad. Upon seeing her hesitation, he told her that he knew of an old student of his who had made a living there and was working at the Museum of Cairo, who would undoubtedly employ her as an assistant while helping her to complete her studies. Adele had felt tempted to politely decline the offer and stay within her comfort zone, but after remembering all of the times she had tried to get a job at the British with no success, she decided to accept. The fear of being in another country, so far away from her family, and the cultural shock had also been her main worries, but eventually she managed to overcome them.

She had also had her grandpa's support at all times, who had encouraged her to take the journey and gave her some extra money from his own bank account to not start off with empty hands. Ah, how she adored her grandpa William! He would've made such a good adventurer had her great-grandparents not forced their eldest son to take a safer path, more according to their status. Yes, Adele was certain that her grandpa would've been an excellent explorer, even better than a lawyer, as he had worked for the past 45 years, before she was born.

After her arrival she felt terribly homesick, however, it slowly went off a bit longer than a month after meeting Professor Winter's old student. Although Adele had expected a man, she was pleasantly surprised to find out that her new employer would be a woman, and not much older than herself; Miss Evelyn Carnahan.

Evelyn was a lively and kind person who silently declared herself Adele's new sister, helping her from the very first moment the younger woman set a foot inside the museum. Evy, as Miss Carnahan insisted on being called, helped her to find her current flat, talk, write and read Arabic fluently, and adapt to the new culture. As Professor Winter said, Evelyn had also helped her with her studies, sharing with Adele her own essays and teaching her Ancient Egypt's secrets and even the archaic sounds of the dead language of the hieroglyphics. The job consisted of assisting Miss Carnahan at the museum's library, mainly sorting out books and deciphering said hieroglyphics. After a bit more than two years, she considered that they had become good friends, but while working she would always refer to her employer as Miss Carnahan. During all that time, Adele never stopped writing letters to her elder sister, Elizabeth, and her dear grandpa, telling them about her new life without skimping on details.

However, there were things she didn't find so appealing. While the Egyptian ruins, landscapes and monuments were breath-taking, she hated the suffocating heat and the merciless sun. The sand was also truly annoying, always getting everywhere and in her shoes' soles. The people, although in its most was welcoming, could be a bother too if they had set their mind into selling you something. Oh, and the camels and other animals walking in the streets were something that she didn't like either. She really wasn't an animal lover… excepting maybe cats.

In spite of those little things, Adele didn't regret coming to Egypt at all. All of the awkward moments she had lived, the loneliness she had felt at times and all of those bothers were worth it for the knowledge she had gained and the friendship she had formed with the Carnahan siblings.

By the time she'd finished arranging her flat, the darkness had already replaced the last sunrays and now ruled the streets of Cairo. The decrease of temperatures was noticeable too.

While she dinned, Adele's only company was a book she had borrowed from Evelyn. But after getting past half of the book, she completely forgot about her meal. It had been Evelyn who had chosen the book after she'd asked her for a good read as pastime, although the appropriated term to use would be a dissertation rather than a book. It consisted of several notes written by Evelyn herself about Hamunaptra, the mythical City of the Dead, regarding the woman's beliefs about the tale. It also included other official data collected by different archaeologists and some locals. Adele loved reading about tales and legends too, and Miss Carnahan's dissertation mesmerized her right after the second page read.

It was Evelyn's life-dream to someday discover the ghost city. Adele herself was happy enough with discovering something important. One day she would… But maybe it wouldn't take as long as she thought.

* * *

 _ **Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own _The Mummy_ , any of its original characters, its plot, etc. I get no benefits while writing this fanfiction. Any similarity you may find with another fanfic it's just pure coincidence, since I've read lots of them and have got some ideas from them and/or their respective authors.**

 **Any description and mention of monuments, art, organisations, etc, recognisable is truthful and has tried to be reproduced as accurately as possible.**

 **However, I do own Eleanor, Adele, and any other OC which has appeared or will appear in this story.**

* * *

 **A.N/: I will only post once the disclaimer above this author's note. So that's all for now, I hope you enjoyed your reading!**

 **Good, bad, awful, amazing...? As said before, all opinions are welcomed, so don't forget to review, please!**

 **Until next time.**

 **~Se acerca el invierno**


	2. I Arrivals and a puzzle-box

_**I. Arrivals and a puzzle-box**_

"The finest silks, perfumes, incenses, jewels worthy of a queen! Come one, come all!"

The voices of the sellers, competing to impose themselves upon the roaring crowd, reached Adele's ears as she walked by the bazaar. As any other morning, the city was packed with tourists. It had been ever since the day in which the radios announced that Howard Carter had found Tutankhamun's tomb. She still remembered that day clearly; at the moment she'd been in Britain, at Oxford's library doing some research. And even though this took place a few years ago, it was obvious that the imprint left on the country had been huge. The numerous visitors were solid proof of that. Adele took care of avoiding the main streets as she also prayed for a quiet morning and a walk to the museum without a hitch. With one hand clutching one of the heavy books she had taken home days ago and the other securing her hat, so it wouldn't fall off due to the sudden gusts of wind, the aspiring archaeologist made her way expertly through the bustling streets, already more than familiar with them. Upon encountering another of those gusts of wind, the young woman felt the fine sand sticking to the side of her neck due to the sweat as she turned her face to the side, trying to keep her eyes clean. _"Ugh…"_

She quickened up her pace. At first, before leaving her flat, Adele had tried to contact Miss Carnahan's brother, Jonathan. She'd phoned to his house to ask for help, with hopes that he would come to assist her in carrying the rest of the books she had borrowed back to the museum. However, the lack of response forced her to think that he probably was… indisposed, as usual. That's if he was even at home, in the first place. Nevertheless, Adele made up her mind and took one of the books with her, opting for returning the remainder of them one by one. She couldn't help but feel that the sun was mocking her, since today was even hotter than the average days. After a few minutes, she finally saw the building, waiting for her with open gates and marvelous shade. She happily strode over the corridors, nodding to the staff she was acquaintance with.

She was passing by the curator's office when a male thick accented voice stopped her. "Miss Jennings, a moment?"

She turned around to find Dr. Terence Bey, all in tree piece suit and with a red fez on his rather bald head, already holding his office's door open for her. "Um, of course, sir…"

"Leave that book on my desk, I'm sure it's not precisely light." Dr. Bey instructed as she stopped nearby the middle of the room. Ready and willing to do so, Adele placed the book where she was told as gently as she could.

"I was just on my way to the library, sir. Miss Carnahan needs the assignments for the new exhibition." She said, looking at the curator, who now was standing behind his desk.

"Ah, yes. I'm sure it can wait, Miss Carnahan is already busy with the recently restored volumes." He made a pause, scrutinizing the young woman's face.

 _"Tell me I'm not in trouble."_ Adele couldn't help but think. The curator had never noticed her before, at least not excesively; she was fairly certain she had never been called to a personal talk in his office before. On the contrary, it had always been Evelyn she had dealt with and who was currently paying her wage. Geez, up until now, she wasn't aware that the man even remembered her name… Apparently, he did. "How long have you been employed by Miss Carnahan?"

She daintily cleared her throat, as if that would buy her some extra time to think about the situation she was currently in. "For about two and a half years now, sir."

Dr. Bey made an _"hmm"_ noise while stroking his grey-haired beard. She gulped. "Miss Jennings, I'd like to be frank with you. In all of these years your work has been unnoticed in its most; therefore, I don't think Miss Carnahan will need your services anymore."

Adele felt her jaw opening, leaving her mouth ajar in a very unladylike manner. _"Oh God, I'm getting fired!"_ Trying to keep some dignity, she found the courage to speak.

"Dr. Bey, please, don't fire me!"

 _"Oh, Adele, you were all dignity and grace. Why not get down on your knees and beg too?"_ She ignored that little sassy voice inside her head. What was she gonna do now? History was her life, he couldn't do this to her! Wouldn't Evelyn have something to say in the matter? After all, she was her actual employer! Right before she could carry on listing all of her useful knowledge for the museum, Dr. Bey spoke up again.

"Fire?" He asked with a frown, "No one is going to fire you, Miss Jennings."

She mirrored his confused gaze. "But, sir, you just said that-"

"I know what I was saying, Miss Jennings. But as I meant to tell you, I don't believe Miss Carnahan needs your assistance anymore because I'd like to employ you as direct staff of the museum." Now Adele was sure she _looked_ like an idiot. She gulped again.

"I beg your pardon…?" She asked quietly.

Dr. Bey sighed impatiently. "There's a vacant post in the restoration department. After stumbling upon some of your hieratic illustrations, I thought you could be interested in filling the job. Since your work it's not enough appreciated, I found myself considering that your artistic skills could be put to a better use. If you want to keep helping Miss Carnahan at the library, you're free to do so as well."

And once a couple of minutes had passed, Adele voiced out her only thoughts. "So I'm not getting fired…" She was sure that the curator resisted the urge to roll his eyes, for the sake of professionalism. She hurried to give an answer. "Well, sir. That's… very kind of you but-"

 _BANG!_ A loud noise echoed through all of the corridors and the room. Adele and the curator exchanged a perplex gaze before both of them stood up and hurried out of the office. The commotion had sounded near the library. _"Evy, what have you done now?"_ Adele thought as she followed Dr. Bey's tensed back. Most of the staff had held their work up, trying to see what had happened. Equally curious, she entered the library. Adele certainly did not expect to find most of the bookshelves on the floor like a domino; even some papers were still floating in the air, descending smoothly to the floor. And right in the middle of that mess, literally, was her employer with her eyes wide-open and looking shocked at her surroundings.

"Evelyn!" Adele exclaimed, walking up to her as she tried to avoid stepping onto the shelves and books that now littered the room's floor. "What happened? Are you alright?" She asked frantically.

"I-I'm fine, Adele… At least for now." Evy said softly, looking preoccupied over the other woman's shoulder. Adele turned around too to observe the curator. He was on top of a fallen bookshelf, with an expression mixed with surprise, hurt and anger plastered across his face. He had his arms spread as if saying _"Why me?"_ , and Adele couldn't help but find the whole picture too comical.

"Wha-how-ah…" Dr. Bey babbled incoherently. Yes, definitely, he was broken… Suddenly, he focused his gaze on Evelyn, and even Adele beside her didn't manage to suppress a cringe. Meanwhile, Evelyn had the sensitivity to try to hide a little smile. "Look-at-this!" He said jumping off the shelf and striding over to the two women. "Sons of the pharaohs! Give me frogs!" He yelled, throwing his hand up in the air.

 _"Don't you dare laughing, Adele, don't you dare…"_ She told herself.

"Flies! Locusts! Anything but _you_!" He jabbed a finger towards Evelyn. "Compared to you the plagues were a joy!"

"I'm so very sorry, it was an accident." Apologized the librarian.

"Dear girl, when Ramses destroyed Syria, _that_ was an accident. You are a catastrophe!" He waved his hand around to emphasize his point. "Look at my library! How do I put up with you?" He asked rhetorically. Adele's gaze saddened, thinking that the last statement was too hard. She didn't dare to voice out loud her opinion, though, not to her currently very angry boss.

Evelyn faced the man, clearly offended. "Well, y-you put up with me because, because I can read and write Ancient Egyptian. A-and I can decipher hieroglyphics and hieratic. And I am the only person within a thousand miles who knows how to properly code and catalogue this library, that's why!" Miss Carnahan declared, nodding once to herself.

"I put up with you because your father and mother were our finest patrons, that's why! Allah rests their souls…"

Untangling the knot in her throat, Adele finally found the courage to speak. "Sir, Miss Carnahan is right. Just like she has caused this… accident, she's probably the only one able to fix it too…"

For the briefest moment, they thought Dr. Bey would yell again, but instead, he took a deep breath. "I don't care how you do it, I don't care how long it takes, but straight out this _mess_!" He may have spoken rather calmly at first, but his crescendo ended up in another order barked. He pointed a finger to Adele. "You! You help her, and later we'll continue our conversation." And just like that, he left the library still fuming.

Adele turned towards her employer. "Evelyn Carnahan, for my sake, care to tell how did you manage to do _this_?"

The librarian grumbled in response while rubbing her index finger on her frown. "I-I don't know! One moment I was just sorting out the books when I saw _"Tutmosis"_ , and then I tried to put it on the other shelf, but I lost balance and…" She ended up her tale gesturing towards the fallen bookshelves.

Adele shifted a chuckle while shaking her head. She bent down and started to collect the papers and broken pages. It looks like the restoration department had plenty of work to do now… "Miss Carnahan, you're the real mess."

Before Evelyn could say something, they heard a soft noise behind them. It had come from the room were the collectibles of the new exhibition were kept. "I'll go check." She said, already venturing into the room. Adele watched her disappear, letting out a sigh of her own. Not long after, she heard a scream, no doubt Evy's, followed by a man's laughter. Adele shook her head lightly.

 _"And I was hoping for a quiet morning…"_

* * *

Gold. That was Eleanor's first thought while catching her first glimpse of land. There in the horizon Egypt awaited them, shining brightly underneath the sunrays, ahead of her position on the ship's deck. With one hand on her forehead to cast shade on her face, she fixed her blue eyes intently on the buildings' shapes. Eleanor felt a light tingle in her belly and toes. Her nerves were on edge, on the same level as her new-found excitement.

Suddenly, a heavy arm fell upon her shoulders, making her jump a little. "So, what do ya think?" A southern male voice asked. She looked up to her left and found a smug smirk plastered across her friend's face. Standing this close, Eleanor was able to spot a few sweat drops on his forehead despite the brown, cowboy hat he was wearing, making some of his blond locks stick to the slightly reddish skin.

"Sizzling hot." Said she while taking the hat and placing it on her head.

"Ya know, I feel flattered, but I'm afraid I see ya more as a sister." He grinned down at her. Eleanor smacked him lightly on the chest.

"I meant the weather, you bonehead!" He laughed good-naturedly, not taking offence. She failed to hide a smile of her own. "Where's Bernie?"

The man shrugged. "Don't really know."

"He's in his cabin, just spoke to him." Another voice answered the question. They both looked at the right towards the newcomer. His dark hair was also covered by sweat, and his smaller frame was the same height as Eleanor's. "Henderson's already bothering ya, Nellie?"

She gave him a little smirk. "Just the usual, Daniels, nothing I can't handle."

The blond cowboy scoffed, his arm still lingering lazily on her shoulders. "Now, I'm sure there's a jibe in there somewhere…"

Her smirk twitched, shifting a laugh. In contrast, Daniels bursted into laughter shamelessly. "Too much of a woman for ya." He said, sending her a knowing smile. Eleanor suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. The comfort she felt around the two men, friends of not only her brother but her as well, was the only reason she had to be so outspoken and bold. She wasn't that much of a fighter, her shyness always driving her to avoid meeting new people and making her look rather meek.

"Not to mention Burns would get my head." The cowboy added, gesturing with his index finger, agreeing with the shorter man.

"Well, gentlemen, care to remind me, what's our plan?" She asked, trying to change the topic and stepping out of their side, facing them.

"Arrive at port, get some horses, get into another goddamn ship down the Nile, cross the desert, find the ruins and become totally loaded." Daniels said unconcerned, sliding a cigarette in his mouth while searching for a lighter inside his jacket's pockets.

She chuckled. "You don't make it sound as the adventure I was promised."

Henderson smirked, walking up to her. He took his hat from her and placed it once more on his own head. The blond man tilted his chin forward. "Look."

And she did. Eleanor twisted her body, giving her back to her companions and looked. And she saw that they had reached port, providing her with her first proper image of Egypt.

The water was clearer than she had expected, reflecting the light blue color of the sky. Sailing past them, she saw smaller boats with native fishers navigating them, some of them untangling nets and preparing for a hard-work day. And lifting her gaze, she descried at her right three enormous pyramids. At least they appeared enormous to her. Whether those huge triangular structures were famous or not, she couldn't care less, because they still made her hold her gaze, mesmerized. After what felt like hours admiring them from the distance, she looked at her other side, towards where the ship would dock. Eleanor discerned the colorful awnings of the small stalls that formed a little market at the foot of the rowdy docks. The sellers waved their arms, holding up their products so potential customers saw them. She also observed the other boats stationed. Both, native people and foreigners, crossed the gangways in and out of the ships and smaller boats. She even spotted a couple of camels getting out of a ship.

"Ya know, if ya keep leaning like that, ya'll end up falling into the water." Daniels said. She blinked, and she realized that, in fact, half of her body was hanging from the edge of the ship. She almost blushed in embarrassment. The woman took a step back and looked around her. Henderson had left at some point, so only Daniels and her stood on the deck. The corner of his lips twitched, insinuating a smirk. "Good enough for yer adventure?" He asked, the lighted cigarette dangling from his mouth and moving up and down as the American spoke, drawing in the air a trail of smoke.

She smiled. "It's not a bad start."

He gazed at her and inhaled deeply. Daniels took the cigarette between his index and thumb to breathe out a mouthful of smoke, before speaking up again. "What ya gonna do?"

Eleanor waited a little before giving an answer. "I'm not sure… I thought writing about this." Daniels raised an eyebrow. She sighed. "It's quite a good idea. I mean, why should I not give it a try? Maybe I could catch the eye of a magazine, a scholar, someone who gets interested in our tale, and I could make some money…"

The black-haired man chucked, interrupting her. "Thought we were the greedy bastards. Once we get our hands in that secret treasure, ya still want to make more money becomin' a novelist."

She scoffed. "No one can ensure us that we'll find a treasure, one that has been buried beneath the sand for who knows how many years."

"You're a killjoy, ain't ya?" He said, making her sigh.

"And I'm not only driven by money, you know…" She said, frowning.

He took another puff of his cigarette and breathed out. "Then what are ya driven by?"

She stared out to the space, lost in thought. "Curiosity… Fear, excitement… Wanderlust…" Eleanor met her friend's gaze once more and smiled mischievously. "Senseless brothers and irresponsible, greedy friends…" Daniels returned the smile.

"Now, that's more alike."

Despite knowing that she would reject it, he offered her a new cigarette all the same. She shook her head, making him shrug. "Yer loss." He mumbled, lighting another one for himself.

The ship was about to dock when Burns and Henderson strode up to them. Out of the corner of her eye, Eleanor spotted Dr. Chamberlain eyeing critically the streets. She also caught sight of their guide, Mr. Gabor. She hadn't spoken to either of them yet, although she intended to. Eleanor couldn't miss how well the description her brother gave her of the Bulgarian fitted him. At first sight, there wasn't much to look at. The man was lanky, a little taller than her, and quite skinny; he didn't strike her as the brave soldier type, neither as the one mad enough to seek war. She wondered why such a person would join willingly the army. That's, willingly being the key word... She guessed Mr. Gabor was also superstitious, since she had caught glimpse of several religious symbols hanging from his neck. And, for some reason, Eleanor hadn't decided whether if he was trust worthy enough or not.

"Alright, now we go to the hotel before comin' back, the other boat will set sail late in the afternoon." Her brother's voice snapped her out of her day-dream. "We told the natives to get our stuff prepared, take just a change of cloth and whatever else you'll need at the place." He told her.

She nodded absently. The ship had finally come to a halt, and she eyed the gangway which waited for her. As if reading her thoughts, Daniels came up to her other side and said, "Welcome to Egypt, Miss Burns."

* * *

Adele was unable to make up her mind. What should she take with her? The suitcase was open and empty, waiting for its owner to pack. But no matter how many garments she laid on the bed, next to the suitcase, nor how many books she took off the shelves, she couldn't decide which ones she would take with her.

When she woke up that morning she definitely hadn't been expecting her day to take such a 180 degree turn. But it seemed like she was now in for an expedition. That's right, she was being dragged along for the trip to Hamunaptra. Not that she actually complained, it was just… unexpected. After checking the room and having the fright of her life, Evelyn went back into the destroyed library, followed by her elder brother, Jonathan, who had stopped by to pay a visit. After laughing hysterically at the picture and repeating _"A bit of a mess"_ in a poor impression of her sister's voice, Mr. Carnahan greeted Adele and took hold of her wrist, leading her to the curator's office. Evelyn was not far behind, clutching in her hands a small object that Adele had yet to see.

Upon seeing the three of them, Dr. Bey had been obviously vexed, nevermind -and quite thankfully- not as furious as before. Adele almost chuckled remembering the disapproval look on the older man's face while Jonathan, who Adele had the suspicion that still was a bit drunk, tried to explain the importance of the newest trinket he had found. But fortunately for him, Evelyn came to his rescue and placed on the table a small, golden puzzle-box with eight keyed ends. She'd pressed the box's bottom and it opened, revealing what looked like a papyrus folded within. Adele had watched fascinated the little artifact and the paper. Afterwards, Evelyn had proceeded to explain the historical accuracy of the map. Once her employer had finished talking, Adele had turned to Jonathan, asking excitedly where had he found something actually valuable. He'd answered that he got it at a dig in Thebes.

However, Dr. Bey didn't hesitate to express his skepticism and his subtle prohibition of getting further involved in the myth of the City of the Dead. Of course, none of the British archaeologists had done as they were advised. Instead, Adele had offered to keep cleaning the library while the Carnahan siblings went to find out more about the way to Hamunaptra.

She shouldn't have been surprised when hours later Evelyn stormed into the museum livid, mumbling how she was going to kill Jonathan for his lies and stupidity. Apparently, Jonathan hadn't found the puzzle-box at a dig. No, he had actually stolen it. And not only that, the original owner was currently in prison... Jonathan had stolen from a drunken man at a bar, creating a fight, and said fight had got the man in prison... Adele wondered how Mr. Carnahan was still alive.

Nevertheless, Evelyn managed to make a deal with the man, so he was now leading them to Hamunaptra. Personally, she was dying to meet him. How could he be so certain of the way? How did he find the box?

Adele shook her head. The boat would sail late in the afternoon, and she had to pack. Some books would be helpful to fight occasional boredom and make a bit of research if needed, but too many would only be a dead weight, quite literally. And clothes. They surely would go through the Sahara, which meant that it was very likely that they'd ride either horses or camels, so she would need light clothes that would cover most of her body, to protect it from the burning sun, but also comfortable enough to ride one of those four-legged beasts... She'd also need a comb. After a couple of minutes, she finally started to fill up the suitcase.

By the time she was done, she heard a loud knock on her door. "Come on, Addie! Our carriage waits!" Rolling her eyes, she opened the door to find Mr. Carnahan dressed all in white, leaning against her doorframe. His face was less reddish, so she guessed he had sobered up a bit, and he was wearing what he called his _"explorer hat"_ , to get in character, he told her once...

She frowned. "What happened to your eye?" She asked. For a moment he looked confused, before suddenly remembering and giving a nervous laugh.

"This?" He asked, gesturing to his left eye. "Nothing of importance." Adele grinned, not believing a word.

"If you say so, Mr. Carnahan." She went back inside, leaving the door open for him. He entered the flat, looking around and giving a whistle.

"Nice place, can't believe I've actually never been here." He turned back to her and clapped his hands, rubbing them afterwards. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Could you help me with this?" She asked, lifting the suitcase from the bed.

He frowned. "Why? It's your suitcase."

Adele rolled her eyes once more. "Never mind." She went to the front door and closed it, locking it. "You're no gentleman, Mr. Carnahan, you lack the manners." She said while they descended the stairs of the building. Evelyn was waiting for them outside.

"Never claimed to be one, old girl." Jonathan said cheerfully.

She sighed. _"And here we go…"_

* * *

 **A.N/: First chapter done! I've tried to avoid using too many of the original scenes of the movie. Can't wait to write the next one!** **I've finally got vacantions, so hopefully I'll be able to post chapters more regularly.**

 **Thank you everyone who has read, followed and/or favorited, and special thanks to** Kitty Daniels **for her _amazing_ review. Seriously girl, you made my day! ^^**

 **Hope you all enjoy the story.**

 **Until next time!**

 **~Se acerca el invierno**


	3. II Encounters down the Nile

**_II. Encounters down the Nile_**

Eleanor's first impressions couldn't have been more right; to say that Giza Port's market was lively definitely was an understatement. She could barely walk without bumping shoulders with someone else, yet she found the noise and the crowd's bustle strangely pleasant. It made her feel alive.

Trying to take a close look at her surroundings while following her brother's back, she pushed through the crowd, glancing every now and again over her shoulder at the native man who was carrying her luggage. She wasn't used to others working for her. The man seemed to be fine, though, despite the intense heat. _"We hired them all for a reason."_ Daniels had said when she'd asked if the man would mind carrying her bags. She supposed he had a point. The walk to the hotel didn't take that long. After fifteen minutes, their guide stopped in front of a huge wooden door that led inside their final location. Once her things were left in her room and the worker walked out, Eleanor made a quick change of clothes, opting for wearing pants and high boots instead of her usual skirts. Feeling much more comfortable and refreshed, she put the clothes back inside the suitcase and headed downstairs, surprised to find that none of the people she knew was there. After thinking it over, Eleanor decided to go to the hotel's bar. The Islam may forbid Muslims to drink alcohol, but Daniels and Henderson were not Muslims, and her brother was easy-going enough to allow their friends to drag him along, regardless of if he wanted a drink or not. Besides, she doubted the hotel's staff would deny tourists a drink.

Indeed, her assumptions were right. The three of them were settled around a small, rounded table, with a full glass for each. They cheered when they spotted her standing at the entrance. She mentally shrugged. Well, they weren't drunk… at least yet.

"Seriously, the first thing you do after setting foot into a whole new country is get for yourselves jag juice?" She asked, directing her gaze to Bernard as she came to stop in front of the group. Her brother smiled uneasily, aware of her disconformity.

"Damn straight we are, gal." Answered Henderson with a big smile.

"Did ya really expect us to let an opportunity like this get away?" Daniels asked rhetorically.

"Well, one would've thought that after years of limiting your drinking the three of you would have a little more of self-control." She teased, even though she wished that the three of them would _actually_ cut their bad habits.

"Contrarily, anyone shoulda known better than thinkin' a group of yanks wouldn't drink themselves blind." Henderson answered blissfully while raising his glass, drinking it down to prove his point.

She rolled her eyes. Too much to hope for Prohibition actually taking effect…

"Nellie," Her brother spoke up, "Henderson an' I are gonna go to the market later, need to buy the horses an' couple' things more. Wanna come with us?"

She nodded. "Sure! Actually, I was hoping to do some sightseeing before the boat sailed."

A few glasses later, the three of them went back to the port. Since it was midday, the multitude of tourists had diminished considerably; instead, the port now was mostly occupied by masses of sellers and locals. It was then when Henderson took some workers and went to buy the horses, leaving the Burns siblings on their own.

"What are we going to buy first?" She asked, eyeing the stalls.

"Supplies, tents an' tools. Shovels, ropes, picks... that kind a' stuff for the diggers, an' even some medicines if possible." Bernard replied idly, adjusting his glasses. Eleanor frowned.

"And we'll find all of those here? Most of these look like souvenirs. And somehow I got the feeling no one here has ever heard of sulfa drugs or vitamin production." She commented skeptically, sending a brief glance towards a particular man as he spitted a phlegm on the ground. Her brother just shrugged.

"That's what I wonder too, but the guide said so. C'mon…" Rolling her eyes, she did as told.

As they approached one of the stalls with an orange awning, the rest of the workers hired followed them, waiting for instructions. The seller was a short, plump man, with a cream turban wrapped around his head. He smiled at them. "Welcome, welcome my friends!" He said loudly in English with a thick accent. "I have the best fabrics for you and your wife, my good sir. Come and see!" Eleanor nearly wrinkled her nose in disgust at the man's deductions. Sure, she loved her brother to no end, but the mere thought of a romantic relationship with him was appalling enough to give her nightmares.

 _"Apparently Bernie agrees with me…"_ She thought, amused upon seeing her brother hurrying to correct the man. Minutes later, she was sure they'd bought enough clothing to set up tents for a whole legion. Four of the workers that were behind them took the fabrics with ease and walked away. "Where are they taking them?" She asked curiously.

"The boat, where else?" He answered, looking down at her. "Doc's already checkin' everything for us."

"Smart ass." She muttered, making him grin. "You know, you boys could've bought all of these in the States, so why wait until we arrived here?"

"Dave investigated, an' our boy ascertained we could save us a hell lot a' bucks shoppin' here." She nodded. It made sense...

They kept buying for the next twenty minutes until Eleanor decided that she was bored of looking at work tools, which most of them she had no clue of how to use. She walked past the workers and other customers, going down the line of stalls and scanning the products. There were ceramic figures and monuments; oils, smelling salts and other body lotions; clothes and jewelry... yet she didn't see anything remotely close to medical supplies. She paused, looking at a few dresses laid on a table. One was especially pretty; the cloth looked like silk and the color was a shade of light pink, with silver embroideries creating patterns of Egyptian style; at least that's how she was sure most American fashion magazines would have referred to the patterns. The sleeves were long, and the skirt's length was below the knees. The other dresses shared a similar appearance, combining different colors; blue, grey, black, red, white, turquoise, gold… _"Even if the sleeves aren't cut, flappers would kill for one of these."_ Eleanor thought. The woman at the stall tried to talk her into buying one, but she declined the offer with a small voice, trying to be polite. She wouldn't need it, neither would she have the occasion to wear such a dress at Hamunaptra, surrounded by sand and horses. She came to the next set of items, glancing curiously over the various pieces of jewelry. A particular one caught her eye. The fine steel had been shaped as a cross with an oval handle.

"Cheap jewels for beautiful women, my friend. You buy!" The man said as he observed her. He wasn't as fluent in English as most of the other sellers that had talked to her. Eleanor twisted a lock of hair which had fallen from the bun placed at the nape of her neck. Finally, she gazed back to the expectant man.

"How much for this?" She asked pointing at the peculiar cross.

After about ten minutes of haggling with the man, Eleanor finally got her desired necklace at a reasonable price. Timid and idiot were not synonyms in her book. She was walking back to where she had left Bernie, the necklace partially hidden underneath her blouse, when she saw how a gust of wind blew a young woman's hat off her head. The hat fell beside her and she kneeled to take it from the dirty floor, before it was sent flying further away. Standing up, she gazed at the woman. In a word, Eleanor would describe her as a bearcat, walking with a firm step towards her and a confidence Eleanor could only wish to possess. A few locks of auburn hair which had escaped her neat, low bun defined her slightly rounded face, and her creamy skin shinned faintly due to the sweat caused by the heat. Her lips were full and her nose small. The woman was dressed quite modestly with a long, beige skirt covering her legs, a white blouse and a beige vest. Definitely, the woman was very pretty. She smiled and offered her the hat. "Here you go, miss." She said softly.

The woman scrutinized her with cold, brown eyes from head to toe before taking gracefully the hat. She gave a small nod in acknowledgement. "Thank you." Her voice carried a British accent and was deeper than Eleanor first thought, but even so she wouldn't say it was unpleasant… Unlike her attitude. With that, the Brit turned around and walked back to the man and woman that were waiting next to the woman's luggage, watching the scene. _"Her highness is in a bad mood today..."_ Eleanor thought as she resumed her own way too. A couple of minutes later, someone touched her shoulder, making her jump.

"Don't you dare disappearin' like that again, Nellie! One of the diggers said you just walked away." Bernie said, frowning.

She shrugged, feeling guilty. "I got bored of seeing that man trying to fool you into buying that tool kit, so I went to see what else is on sale. Sorry, though, didn't mean to make you worry."

Her brother's frown deepened. "Fool me? He wasn't! That stuff could be useful."

She was about to answer when she closed her mouth. Eleanor closed her eyes and sighed dramatically. "Bernie, tell me you didn't buy it…"

She opened her eyes. He had a sheepish look on his face as he unfolded the leather, revealing several small brushes and other tools. She moved her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, giving him the look. "What?" He asked defensively, "You don't know if I'll actually have to use these. It's an investment…" She sighed again, trying hard not to roll her eyes. _"An investment, yeah... like this expedition..."_ She couldn't help but think sarcastically.

"Well, I guess Dr. Chamberlain will be able to explain how to use these if necessary." Eleanor said wryly, picking up a tiny hammer. She raised her eyebrows, looking at it. Very tiny indeed...

Bernard took it from her grasp and put it back in its place, folding the leather once more. "Let's go, the boat will sail soon."

* * *

"For God's sake, Mr. Carnahan! You won't take even your little sister's suitcase?" Adele asked as the three of them started to walk down the street towards the port.

"Why do you all assume I should do that!" He asked defensively.

"Because it's the polite thing to do?" Answered Evelyn. Adele almost wanted to chuckle at the sight of Evelyn's suitcase, which was quite bigger than her own. And she had been worried of carrying too many things…

"I'll tell you, old mum, I never claimed to be a gentleman. Isn't that right, Addie?" Said Jonathan looking pointedly at his sister's employee, who was walking by his right side.

The aforesaid woman sighed. "Even so, Mr. Carnahan, I think you could have made an exception with Evelyn. She is your sister, after all."

He scoffed. "That only makes her more indulgent of my mistakes as well as gullible; she actually believed the whole excavation thing!"

"I did too, you know. I wonder why Evelyn, or myself for the matter, still trust you." She said.

"Hey, you call Evy by her first name! Why don't you do the same with me?" Jonathan asked childishly, changing the subject.

Adele ignored him. They were reaching port; she could hear the Nile flowing and the market's bustle, even though the place wasn't as packed as during peak hour -thankfully-. The three started to walk by the line of boats and ships, occasionally stepping out of the way of a cart or a horse.

"So _Evy_ ," Adele said, leaning slightly over Mr. Carnahan to look at her friend, "What's our guide's name? You mentioned he's American."

Jonathan groaned, catching Adele's drift. "Yes, he is." Answered Evelyn, ignoring her brother too. "He said his name is Richard O'Connell, told us he served in the French Foreign Legion. But if I were you, I wouldn't get my hopes up; he's arrogant and rude, much like Jonathan."

Ignoring a dramatic _"Hey!"_ from the British man, Adele carried on with the conversation. "What does he look like?"

Evelyn avoided the other woman's gaze and looked ahead. "He's quite tall. Tan skin, blue eyes…" She said a little more softly. The Egyptologist caught sight of her employee's face. Adele was raising an eyebrow and one of the corners of her lips twitched a little, insinuating a grin. Evelyn cleared her throat before continuing. "His hair is light brown but a wild mess; he desperately could use a hair cut. You should've seen him… I sincerely hope he has primped himself, if only a little." She added, quite lamely in Adele's opinion.

However, a gust of wind blew her hat off, cutting any sassy remark she was about to make. They stopped and looked behind them. A young woman around Adele's age was kneeling on the floor, picking up the hat. The woman was wearing black pants and black high boots; her white, long-sleeved blouse was tucked inside the pants and loose in a casual way. Her black hair was styled in a low bun at her nape, much like herself although not as neatly, since several locks fell loose around her neck and face, giving her a nice look. Despite her first appearance, her clothes were over-used, Adele could tell. _"Middle-low class, although I thought flappers favoured short hair..."_ She thought upon seeing the little cleavage that the blouse showed while she had been kneeled and how her pants gave hints of the woman's figure. Adele had been educated in the bosom of a high class, Christian family in London; she had always been told what appropriate attire was. Her Mother, rest in peace, always had told her that she needed to become a useful woman in both the professional world and workplace, and the family setting. That's why she was sure her Mother would have approved of her studying at Oxford; her daughter would have not only the chance of studying to find a work, but also of finding a suitable husband. If only she knew that her youngest daughter wasn't so concerned about marriage as she was about history…

After leaving on the ground her luggage, Adele strode up until she came to a halt in front of the other woman. Her visage was heart-shaped, with a skin slightly tanner than hers and a straight nose that didn't make her precisely ugly, just like the rest of her sharp features. Her blue eyes were her most outstanding trait, in her opinion. Her lips were a bit small though, but over all, she was pretty, Adele had to give her that. The woman extended her right hand towards her. "Here you go, miss." She said softly, smiling. Her accent was American.

Not wanting to be totally impolite, Adele nodded. "Thank you." She answered, taking the hat. Without any other words, she turned around and went back to the Carnahan siblings, who were watching them patiently. She put her hat on and took her belongings, the three resuming their way.

"She seemed nice." Jonathan commented casually.

"Anything with breasts seems nice to you, Jonathan…" Said Evy. Adele chuckled, agreeing.

"Not everything, my dear sister! Remember that belly dancer?" He shivered dramatically, "Yeah, not in a million years."

"And for a million pounds?" Asked Adele cheekily.

Mr. Carnahan frowned while raising eyebrow, as if he was actually considering the hypothetical situation. "Well…"

His sister rolled her eyes. "Jonathan!"

"No, not even then!" He said quickly. Adele laughed a little.

"There are more important things in the world than liquor, women and wealth, Mr. Carnahan."

"Oh, definitely, but those are the things I'm pledged to. What can I say, love? I'm a free spirit!" He said.

After a couple of minutes, Evelyn re-initiated the conversation. "Do you really think he's going to show up?" She asked Jonathan.

"Yes, undoubtedly. He may be a cowboy but I know he will, the man gave us his word." Jonathan answered unconcerned.

"Well, as I said before, personally I think he's not only rude and arrogant, but also filthy, a complete scoundrel; I don't like him one bit."

"Anyone I know?" A deep, male voice asked at their backs. The three turned around and Adele could only assume that the handsome man before them was Mr. O'Connell. Evelyn's physical description fit him quite accurately, but he didn't appear as much of a savage as her friend claimed, quite the contrary. The American man was dressed with a beige jacket and pants, white shirt and brown boots, with a heavy bag hanging from his left shoulder. His hair was perfectly cut and combed too, and his smell wasn't so terrible either… After raising his eyebrows questioningly at Evelyn, he fixed his eyes on Adele. "Have we met before?" He asked pointing at her with his index left finger.

Adele set down one of her suitcases before answering. "No, we haven't. My name is Adele Jennings, I'm Miss Carnahan's assistant." She said, holding out her right hand. He shook it.

"Richard O'Connell, pleasure." He said rather politely.

Jonathan gave a nervous chuckle. "Smashing day for start an adventure, eh O'Connell?" He asked, patting him on the chest. Evy was still speechless, Adele noticed while trying not to smile.

Mr. O'Connell released the young woman's hand and took something out of the inside-pocket of his jacket. "Yeah, smashing." He quickly showed his wallet, then placed it back in its spot.

"Oh, no, no! I'd never steal from a partner… partner." He added smiling rather anxiously. Adele couldn't help but scoff. Both men chuckled.

"That reminds me, no hard feelings for the…" O'Connell said, punching the air, and Adele's eyebrow rose. She looked at Jonathan and his left eye. _"Nothing of importance, uh?"_

"Oh, no, happens all the time." Jonathan said, waving his hand in dismiss.

"Yes, that's true," Said Adele. "Actually, Mr. Carnahan's capacity to survival never ceases to amaze me, Mr. O'Connell."

The American smirked. "Mr. O'Connell," Evelyn spoke up, gaining his attention back, "Can you look me in the eye and guarantee me that this isn't all some kind of a flimflam? Because if it is, I am warning you I'll-"

"You're warning me?" He interrupted, incredulous of the woman's boldness. "Lady, let me put it this way; my whole damn garrison believed in this so much that without orders they marched halfway across Libya and into Egypt to find that city. And when we got there, all we found was sand and blood."

Adele blinked, mulling over their guide's honest words, a little surprised of his harness and confidence. Sure it couldn't be that bad… "Let me get your bags." He added, managing to take both hers and Evelyn's luggage rather effortlessly and walking inside the boat.

"Yes, yes, you're right. How did she say, Addie?" Said Jonathan after a moment of silence.

"Arrogant, filthy, rude, and a complete scoundrel she said." Adele played along right away, smirking.

"Definitely, nothing to like there at all." He said sarcastically.

"Not even when Mr. O'Connell is all primped." She added.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, you two!" Evelyn muttered, a little irritated at being the target of their infantile teasing.

The both of them crossed looks, grinning, Evelyn joining them little afterwards. Suddenly, another voice talked to them. "Bright good morning to you all!" A plump, short, bald man wearing a fez and carrying bags at his back came up to them, strongly smelling of alcohol. Evelyn didn't bother to hide her dislike.

"Oh, _no,_ what are you doing here?" She asked. The man started to walk up the ramp leading inside the boat.

"I'm here to protect my investment, thank you very much." He said, disappearing into the boat. Adele turned back to Evelyn.

"Who's _that_?"

Evelyn sighed. "The prision warden, his name's Hassan, if I remember correctly..." Adele was about to make another question when she was interrupted.

"Well, ladies, pardon me but I'll go find the bar now that I have an excuse." Said Jonathan, patting each woman's shoulder.

"What excuse?" Asked Evy.

"If I'm drunk, I will be able to get along with our smelly companion." He answered, walking inside of the boat.

"So why exactly is the warden here? What did he mean by investment?" Adele asked. She didn't like one bit the sigh Evelyn let out before answering her.

"You recall I told you Mr. O'Connell was in prision?" Evy asked, making her friend nod. "Well, the day I went with Jonathan to see him, Mr. O'Connell was about to be hanged-"

" _What?_ " Adele asked incredously, "He was sentenced to death just for a bar fight?"

The archaeologist shook her head furiously. "Of course not! It was because... Well, actually I'm not sure why, but the only way I could stop his sentence was promising the warden a per centage of the treasure."

"How much?" She asked cautiously.

"Twenty-five..." Adele groaned in complain. "It was the only way, otherwise our guide would have died!" Evelyn defended herself.

"I know, I know... It just bothers me that people like that manage to get his hands in such treasures. They can't see that they're far more valuable for their antiquity than their shine or weight." She said. As a proper archaeologist herself and a history lover, Adele was a woman opposed to treasure hunters, and any kind of similar people.

Evelyn sighed again, sharing her opinion. "We better get going, come." She added, more perkily and providing her employee with a bright smile. She was about to follow her brother's footsteps, when she noticed Adele hesitating. She frowned. "Is there something wrong, Adele?"

Said woman was glaring intently at the water below. She gulped. "Nothing." She said, finally tearing her gaze apart. Evelyn was still giving her a concerned look. Adele was halfway through the gangway when she noticed no one was following her. "Are you coming?" She asked her employer, looking back at her with her hands resting on her hip. Casting her one last gaze, Evelyn followed her, both of them disappearing inside the boat.

* * *

Eleanor was standing with her hands placed on her hip, gazing thoughtfully at her suitcase. The boat had just set sail, and Bernie had gone with Dave in search of Mr. Gabor to pay him half of his sume; meanwhile, she was in her cabin, debating whether she should unpack or not. Personally, she didn't see the pain that later would suppose packing everything back worthy. After all, it was just a three-days trip. Finally leaving her stuff untouched, she walked out of the cabin. At the end of the corridor, she spotted Daniels storming down the hall in her direction. He looked up to her.

"What's that?" He asked once he was in front of her, glancing at the fine chain around her neck.

"This?" She took the chain, revealing the cross hanging from it. "Bought it at port, it's just a trinket." They headed towards the deck.

"Don't look like one." He replied as they got outside the corridors and onto the open air. "Was expensive?"

"Not really." Eleanor placed the cross back beneath her blouse. The deck was pretty chill, occupied only by a few passengers who were relaxing. She turned back to Daniels and eventually asked. "Did you find Mr. Gabor?"

Daniels snorted at her choice of words. "Yeah, we did, an' that lil' weasel better not mess with us." He growled, making her frown.

"What happened?" She asked softly, not wanting to anger him further. She knew David was a short-tempered, hard boiled man. He took a deep breath, not really wanting to be so harsh with her.

"That bastard tried get twice the bucks we agreed, said he had a family to fed." He snorted again. "Bullshit," Eleanor heard him mutter. "He tried to be smart with us, an' I taught 'im a lesson. Don't worry, no one was beaten." He added upon seeing her concerned look.

She sighed. "Anyway, where were you going?"

"The bar." He looked at Eleanor, watching the exasperating look that his friend was giving him. "Don't gimme that shit, Nellie, I'm not in the mood. An' fer your record, I just wanted to grab a bite, I'll save the drinkin' fer later."

"Hey, I didn't say anything!"

"But ya thought it." Daniels remarked, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She chuckled.

"You can't blame me for worrying. I'll go with you, I think I will take a drink myself." So both friends wandered around the boat until they stumbled upon their desired location.

Now Eleanor understood why the deck was so tranquil; most passengers, especially men, were down there. She could hardly breathe. The room wasn't particularly spacious, and it didn't help that smoking was allowed. Eleanor gulped, trying to calm her nerves. She felt trapped, like a big animal in a minuscule cage. At least back in the streets she was out in the open air, no matter how packed the city was. Sensing her unease, Daniels placed a hand on the small of her back and proceeded to guide her through the room, making way for both of them impatiently. Once they reached the counter, Daniels spotted Henderson waving at them.

"Shit, Nellie, what's wrong with ya, girl?" The blonde man asked, noticing how pale she was at the moment.

"Too many folks and a closed space, that's what." Answered Daniels for her. "Get 'er something to drink, will ya? I'm gonna see if there's any edible stuff down here."

Henderson placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sure." With a nod, Daniels walked away. "What do ya want?"

"Southside." She said after a moment. Henderson raised a hand to call for the bartender, his other still grasped gently around her shoulder.

 _"It's just a crowded room, Eleanor, calm down…"_ She told herself.

"Here ya go." Her friend placed a cold glass on her hand, and she quickly swallowed half of its content. Instantly, her throat burned at the taste of the sweet yet strong liquid, and instinctively she began to cough, not being used to drinking, although not being her first time. Henderson briskly took the glass from her, releasing her shoulder to pat her back. "Whoa, take it easy."

"I'm fine." She hissed once she had eased her breathes. He offered her again the glass. Without hesitation, she made the drink disappear, this time with shorter sips. She placed the empty glass on the counter, already feeling a little more at ease.

"Better?" Henderson asked, and she nodded. "The hell happened to ya? It's been a long time since I last saw ya gettin' claustrophobic."

"Well, it's been a long time since I was inside a room with more occupants than space." She replied. Hearing no sassy comments from her friend's mouth, Eleanor looked at him, finding out that he hadn't listened to her answer. Instead, he was looking thoughtfully at something behind her spot on the stool bar. Curious, she turned around too.

 _"It cannot be."_ She thought, amused. There in the doorway of the bar was the British woman whose hat she'd picked at port, and it seemed as if she was looking for someone. She had taken off that bloody hat and her vest, but otherwise, she looked exactly the same. Eleanor looked back at Henderson, who still had his gaze focused on the woman. "Forget it." She said to him.

Henderson blinked before finally meeting her gaze, frowning. "What?"

Eleanor suppressed a chuckle. "I said, forget it." His frowned deepened, but she elaborated before he could talk. "Her looks don't make it up for her attitude."

"Ya know the broad?"

"Not really," she shrugged. "I ran into her back in the docks, and she practically looked at me as if I was dirt in the bottom of her fine shoes. Probably a high-class. To be honest, I doubt you have a chance with her."

After a few minutes, he smirked smugly. "Thought ya had a little more faith in my charm an' good looks." That made her chuckle. "Anyway, that broad's not my type." He added a little more softly. After sending him a smile, she got up from the stool.

"I need to get outta here, besides, there's someone I want to speak with." Eleanor said.

"See ya." He said, dedicating her a wink which was answered with a roll of her eyes. After watching his friend disappear, the blonde cowboy looked up again towards the doorway, but the other woman was nowhere to be found. Containing a sigh, he spotted a pretty woman sitting alone and, after he drank the rest of his own glass down and put on his most charming smile, he walked up to her. The brunette looked up and returned the smile. "Howard Henderson, lemme buy ya a drink."

* * *

"Oh, Evelyn!" Adele exclaimed, descrying her friend clutching a book among the rest of tourists on deck, "Do you know where's Mr. O'Connell? I'd like to speak with him." She asked once she came close to her.

"I have no idea, Adele, sorry." Said the other British woman, "Have you searched in the bar? It seems like the only place men frequent lately."

After thanking her, Adele took the advice and headed for the bar. If their guide wasn't there, maybe she would be able to find Jonathan and ask him about the American's current whereabouts. She descended the stairs and paused at the doorway, scanning the crowd. The air was heavy with smoke and sweat, but she didn't really care about it. A little disappointed for not being able to find Mr. O'Connell and, surprisingly, Mr. Carnahan either in there, she turned around and walked back onto the deck. She wandered around the boat, thinking. She had already knocked on his cabin's door, but no one had answered, so where was he? The boat wasn't that big, and full grown men just didn't vanish into thin air. A sort of bellow made her jump out of her skin. She looked at her left and saw a few camels, one of them extending his neck towards her. She quickly stepped back.

"They won't hurt you." A rich voice said at her back, sounding amused. She recognized the American accent.

"Oh, there you are, Mr. O'Connell." She said, taking some steps towards him. "I have been looking for you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Have you?" Adele couldn't help but think his tone was unimpressed.

She smiled. "Yes, I have. I wanted to talk with you, about what you said earlier."

"You'll need to be more specific, lady."

She almost sighed. "About what you said of Hamunaptra."

He faked a surprised face before saying, "What about it?"

Adele took a deep breath. She was losing both confidence and patience with this man; now she was starting to see some of Evy's point. "Is it true what you said about your garrison? Miss Carnahan has also told me that you claim to found the puzzle-box at the city."

The American sighed, resembling the epitome of frustration. "Yes, it's true; there was only sand, later covered with all of my men blood. Yes, I found that stupid box among the ruins. And yes, I survived."

She swallowed hard. "I didn't mean to offend you, Mr. O'Con-"

"Call me Rick." He interrupted.

"Very well, Rick," Adele conceded. "I just want to be sure of what are we doing." He blinked.

"Trust me, the city is real. Although I can't promise that you and your employer will find whatever you're looking for there." He said more calmly after a couple of seconds.

She sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of..." She looked up to him. "If you don't mind my asking, how long has it been since you were there?"

"Three years." She nodded, still pretty surprised of his conviction and his direct answers.

"How big is the possibility of..." She hesitated, "Of not coming back?"

Then his gaze changed to one contemplative. "You're one of the few people who has ever asked that." He paused. "To be honest, I don't know for sure. But you better get yourself prepared for the worst, lady. There's a reason for all the legends."

She squinted her eyes, her heart pounding a little faster than usual. "And which is that reason?"

He looked right into her eyes and said without any trace of doubt. "Evil."

* * *

By the time Eleanor found her person of interest the sun was already setting in the horizon. She stopped her pace and gazed out in the distance. The temperatures had decreased considerably; the sun didn't burn her skin anymore, instead it warmed her pleasantly. Her blue eyes scrutinized the sunset avidly, entranced. The sand resembled gold, provoking her a deja-vu of the first time she saw Egypt, a day ago; the soft movement of the water reflected the sunrays. It was beautiful. After what felt like an eternity, she looked away and continued her search. She found him with his back pressed against a wall, dressed with the same clothes she had seen him in during their arrival and smoking something that didn't smell at all like cigarettes or tobacco. Gulping, she walked closer.

"Excuse me, Mr. Gabor?" She hated how small her voice sounded. He looked up to her, his eyes bloodshot, and his thin lips twisted in a little grin.

"Please, call me Beni." His high-pitched voice and his strong accent were too shameless in her opinion. "Who are you?"

"I'm Mr. Burns' sister, one of your employers." She said. His demeanour immediatly changed from flirty to guarded.

"What you want?"

"You told my brother and everyone else that you served as a legionnarie, that's how you know the way to Hamunaptra... I was wondering..." She stopped briefly, trying to overcome her shyness. "How is it possible?"

Mr. Gabor chuckled and, after taking a last drag of his... whatever he was smoking, he threw the butt to the water and turned to her. "After reaching Hamunaptra we fought against some desert horsemen, the Tuaregs. Our commander left the garrison to their own to be massacred, but fortunately I was the only survival. And, after that horrible experience, now I'm forced to take tourists here and there to get money for my children." He said, making her frown, remembering what Daniels had told her.

"You have a family?"

"Five, none of them old enough to work. If you could convince your brother, Miss Burns," He said, taking a couple of steps towards her, "To pay me a little more, for my poor children..."

"That doesn't depend on me..." She said, taking a step back. "Can I have your word that this is no trick, Mr. Gabor?" She asked, changing the subject. "That you will lead us to Hamunaptra and take all of us back?"

He smiled, reminding her of a mouse. "Of course, my dear, I am man of word."

"Alright." And she didn't believe a single word. She cleared her throat. "Thank you for your time." And she walked away quickly, finally understanding everyone's skepticism towards the Bulgarian. Indeed, Beni Gabor wasn't someone to be trusted. Suddenly craving for a drink, she directed her walk, once more, to the bar. After three glasses she started to feel light-headed, so she stopped and went back outside. Eleanor admitted she wasn't one who could hold her liquor. She was heading back to her cabin when she saw one of the workers of the boat grasping harshly a little boy's arm; the youngster was no older than ten years or so. The man was scolding him furiosly in Arabic and shaking him. She frowned and walked up to them, determined thanks to the alcohol flooding through her veins. "Everything alright, sir? What has he done?" She asked, her voice not as clear as if she had been completely sober.

"That's none of your concern, miss." Her frowned deepened.

"He's just a kid, I won't let you treat him like that for no reason." She said, trying to measure her words.

The man sighed impatiently, knowing that, woman or not, he couldn't mistreat a passenger. "This _kid_ is a stowaway!" He said, giving the kid another shake. "He will get off boat next stop!" The kid suddenly said something loudly, looking between the worker and the strange, foreign lady.

Eleanor pursed her lips, thinking. "What if I pay his ticket?"

The worker blinked incredously. "What?"

"I pay his ticket and you let him stay. How does that sound?" She looked down at the kid, who was looking intently at her. She gazed back at the man. "Tell him!" She urged. The worker obeyed, and after a couple of minutes he talked back to her.

"He thanks you, but there will be no room for him; all are occupied." He said firmly. She nodded, and the man finally released the boy, leaving the two of them alone.

Now she saw the idiocy of her actions. _"The guys are gonna kill me..."_ She thought, returning the young boy's gaze. She opened her mouth but closed it again, kneeling in front of him. He probably didn't understand anything she said. "Eleanor..." She said slowly, pointing at herself. After a couple of repetitions, he got the pronunciation right.

"Ahmed." He said, mimicking her. She smiled and said his name without much issue.

"Well," She stood up, "I gotta go, so..." She said, already moving towards the cabin. "Bye." She finished lamely. The kid watched her for a moment and then turned around, disappearing around a corner. Well, less trouble... looking around, Eleanor noticed it was already nighttime. Once she got inside her cabin, she immediately let herself fall against the mattress, too tired to change clothes. Right after her head collided with the pillow, sleep came to her.

* * *

 **A.N/: Well, finally an update! I admit there's not much action going on... yet. I actually wanted to include the whole Med-Jai attack too, but I had to cut it here; otherwise, this chapter would have been endless.**

 **Thank you everyone who has read, followed, faved and reviewed; you all are wonderful :) Hope you enjoy this one too!**

 **PS. I have no idea if someone is acquaintanced with the 1920s slang or not, so I'll leave a few notes, just in case.**

 **~Se acerca el invierno**

* * *

 _ **Jag juice =**_ **H** **ard liquor**

 _ **Flapper =**_ **W** **oman who wore short skirts, bobbed hair, makeup and who** **flaunted her disdain for what was then considered acceptable behavior**

 _ **Bearcat =**_ **A lively, spirited woman, possibly with a fiery streak**

 _ **Hard boiled =**_ **A strong, tough guy**

 _ **Southside =**_ **Gin cocktail with a little sugar, mint and lemon**


	4. III Ambushed

**_III. Ambushed_**

Something was unsettling him; every time he casted a glance towards the now black waters of the river they were sailing, he would get a funny feeling, like a knot in his throat preventing him from breathing normally. For the first time since the whole idea started, he actually was all balled up, wondering if this was such a good plan. Nellie hadn't bothered to hide her skepticism, but then again, she had always been like that; cautious, analyzing the situation instead of acting by impulse. He also knew that she hadn't told him all of her real thoughts, probably because she didn't have the heart to bring their hopes down… He just couldn't shake off the feeling that he should've taken her uncertainty more seriously. A glass colliding with the table snapped him out of his contemplations.

"Will ya get your head in the game, Burns?" Daniels snapped, his hand releasing the glass he had slammed and going back to reorder his cards.

"Yeah, what's got ya so silent?" Added Henderson, who was patiently waiting for him to finish his play.

Despite that they had been perfectly placed during all the game, Burns pushed his glasses further up to the bridge of his nose out of habit. He gazed at the board; the bets had increased, and he couldn't help but think that both of his friends were bluffing their way out of this game. Glancing back at his cards, he saw that he had already formed a 7-J straight flush. He called the bet, not changing cards. While Henderson in front of him was considering his next play, Burns finally spoke up. "I was just thinkin' about Nellie."

Both of his friends looked up. "What about 'er?" Queried Henderson as he too called the bet and switched two of his cards.

"Don't you boys have any doubts 'bout this?"

"Not ya, Burns! Ya were nearly the most enthusiastic of us 'bout this, don't be a wet blanket now as our Jane." Daniels said, filling his glass. Bernard could tell his friend was losing the game and that he didn't like it one bit. With an annoyed groan, Daniels threw his cards onto the board, indicating he folded and confirming his suspicions.

"I'm not, it's just…" He sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't have dragged her into this."

Daniels snorted. "Bit too late fer thinkin' that now, isn't it?"

Knowing what David was getting at, Burns glared at him. "I'm not sayin' I regret, you know she may be useful-"

"Yeah, I know, but that don't mean she belongs 'ere, surrounded by sand an' scum."

"Have to agree with 'im in that one, Burns." Said Henderson, making his adressed friend's jaw get tense. Daniels noticed, and proceeded to elaborate.

"Ya know we care fer 'er as our own sister, she's good as hell in her work an' her skills will be useful, but if somethin' happen to her it's gonna be the three of us who are gonna feel like shit... the rest a' our lives." A silence formed among them as the poker game came to an end. Burns had won.

The American sighed while collecting his money… _"Ol' Dave, always straight to the point."_ He thought both bittersweet and fondly.

"Hey, think positive!" Exclaimed Henderson while shuffling the cards, "Ya need to visualize all that gold in our hands. Imagine the look in Nellie's face once she sees it! We'll make history, boys."

"An' when ya say to 'er _"I told ya so"_." Added Daniels. Burns grinned at the two of them.

"You now," He said, "Overall, I don't regret tellin' her and she comin' with us." He glanced at his five cards, reordering them by colors. "She deserves better than spendin' all her time in the cottage or the hospital…" He added absent-mindedly, making both of his companions silently agree.

They played one more game in which lady fortune finally smiled at Daniels. After taking the money, he got up with the empty bottle of liquor in his hand and headed to the bar in search of a new one, grumbling about the lack of service. Burns decided to occupy himself having a look around. The deck was livelier now that it was nighttime; a few women laughed while chatting perkily. Most of them were flappers who wore dresses or skirts short enough to partially show off their legs. Other women were dressed more modestly with longer skirts. Most passengers, though, were males in suits, also talking among themselves and sharing cigars and alcohol. From time to time, someone would approach one of the passengers of the opposite sex, trying to get some company. And above them, a sea of bright stars graced them with one of the most beautiful views Burns had ever witnessed. Back in America he had never seen so many stars together. He guessed it was because of the thriving car industry; pollution was a trend in every modern city. He himself had been poised to get his own breezer with the money earned from his office job and other less conventional businesses. Henderson suddenly grinned at someone at his right. "Doc, what a surprise! Come an' join us!"

Burns contained a smile and looked to his left at Dr. Chamberlain, who was clutching a book under the crook of his arm and looking disapprovingly at their empty glasses and their gambling. "If you can't tell, Mr. Henderson, I'm a man who doesn't waste either his money or his time." He said while sitting down near them and opening his book.

Henderson hissed, faking pain. "Harsh, doc…" He answered wryly. This time Burns didn't bother to hide his amused smile.

* * *

"Okay, hang on," said Adele, stopping her pace and positioning herself in front of the other woman. She gave Evelyn an incredulous look. "Mr. O'Connell did _what_?"

Evelyn sighed. "He kissed me." Adele's jaw dropped.

"When did that happen?"

"Back in Cairo Prision, actually right before he was taken to the gallows." Adele's expression changed from excited to incensed.

"How dared he?" She exclaimed. "Did he think it was a good idea?" She scoffed. "That man needs a good lecture about how to properly woo a woman." Evelyn chuckled, shaking her head while glancing distractedly at the river, a soft smile plastered on her face.

Adele squinted her eyes, looking intently at the other woman. "Wait, you enjoyed it, didn't you?"

Evelyn looked up, frowning. "Of course not!"

Adele laughed, not bothering to keep formality. They were alone at the opposite side of the main deck with only the camels she had encountered back in the day as their company. "Oh, for heaven's sake, you did!" Her pinkish lips curved into a smirk. "I thought you favoured middle-aged English gentlemen, Evelyn. Imagine my astonishment now that I know you're infatuated with a scoundrel..."

Evelyn sighed dramatically. "I should have never told you about that..." She mumbled.

"Why not? Professor Winter is a very respectable man, and kind of attractive too. Not my archetype of ideal husband, though, but I guess it's a matter of taste."

Now it was Evelyn's turn to smirk. "Then which is your archetype?"

Adele's smirk softened, forming a small smile. "I have no idea." She opened her mouth to keep talking when movement caught her eye. "I've seen something."

"Oh, come on! That's the most childish excuse I've ever heard, so don't change the subject. You're not getting away with it, and certainly not after teasing me so shamelessly." The older woman exclaimed joking.

She ignored her employer and walked closer to the gunwale, placing one hand on the rail. Something had moved towards the boat's side, something large and dark. "Evelyn, I'm serious! I tell you I've seen something coming in our direction..." She wanted to take a closer look, but didn't dare to even peek over the edge. She swallowed, her glare fixed on the river; the water was as dark as the night sky. Could her mind be playing tricks on her boundless imagination? _"...No."_ She told herself firmly. She knew she had truly seen that... thing.

"Well," her friend walked up to her side and leaned slightly. Oh, how did Adele envy that small gesture... "I can't see anything." Evelyn straightened her back, her body once more wholly inside the boat. "Maybe it was just an animal, the Nile is plagued with various of them."

"Yes, maybe..." Casting one last glare to the point she had discerned that shadow, Adele released the rail and took a couple of steps back. "I think I'm going to retire." She faced Evelyn, who was looking concerned at her. "Goodnight, Evy."

"Try to get some sleep." Answered the librarian. Adele gave a curt nod and turned around, moving away with hurried strides. She entered her cabin and sighed. The unsettling feeling hadn't left her body yet. With a shake of her head, she crossed the room and closed firmly the small window which had the cabin. _"You're overreacting..."_ She thought. Deciding to change into her nightgown and follow Evy's advice, she walked to the mirror and started to undo her bun, pulling out hairpins and freeing her long locks. She ran her fingers through the auburn cascade that was her hair, enjoying the feeling. Afterwards, she changed clothes and turned off the lamps, laying on the bed. It was a bit stiff. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to relax her body and shut her thoughts. After what felt like an awfully long time she gave up and sat up, massaging her temples. _"This is ridiculous!"_

She got back to her feet and put on a robe to keep some modesty. She was tying it when she smelled something. Frightened, only one word came to her mind. _"Fire."_

* * *

A nausea woke her up. She could barely hear a thing and her head hurt a little, not as strongly had she kept drinking, but enough to give her a headache. Yet, it was her stomach what felt much worse. Sprinting towards the small bath attached to her cabin, Eleanor threw her hair back as she bent over a washbowl. She coughed and spat saliva until her gag reflex ceased, but luckily, she didn't throw up. Slowly, the American rose. _"Last time I ever drink."_ She lied to herself for the hundreth time. After splashing some cold water on her forehead and neck, she tentatively took a sip of water. How much time had passed since she fell asleep? ...She didn't have a clue.

Gradually, sound began to reach her ears. Eleanor frowned. Why was she hearing screams? She made her way to the cabin's window, still weaving a little, and unlocked it, pulling her head out to take a look. She felt her eyes widening. _"A fire!"_ She could see smoke coming from her left, from where the stable improvised for their horses was located if she remembered correctly. A man dressed in a white suit appeared on her line of vision as he ran around the corner, yelling a woman's name. Now, a thing like _that_ was to be expected. What she wouldn't have expected even in a million years was to see another man, clad from head to toe in black robes and toting two guns with both of his hands, also carrying a curved sword attached to his belt. The man took aim and fired, making Eleanor scream and instantly dive her head back inside the cabin. She slammed the window shut as hard as she could, quickly locking it. She leaned her back against the window. _"What in Jesus name?!"_

Someone banging on her door made her jump out of her skin. Faster than thunder, she grasped the closest thing within her reach, which was one of the lamps, and placed herself at one side of the door. Okay, a man was yelling while banging her cabin door. What now? She was answered after a kick made the door open violently and a tall man entered the cabin. Without thinking, she hit him on the head with the lamp, using all of her strength. He yelled, both for the pain and the surprise, his hands coming up to his head, where he had been hit. She was already moving her arm back, ready to give another blow, when the intruder turned around and faced her. "Nellie! What the _hell?_ " Her other hand came up to cover her mouth while the one holding her improvised weapon opened, releasing the object. It crashed against the wooden floor.

"Bernie! I'm so sorry!"

"I come rescue you an' that's what I get?!" He exclaimed, still a bit angered.

"I thought you were gonna kill me!" She took two steps forward. "You okay? What's happened?"

"I'm fine, so are the boys; the boat is being attacked." He looked at one of his hands, his fingers covered with a little of blood. "You know, for bein' so skinny you hit damn hard!" She opened her mouth to make another apology, but Bernard beat her, taking a hand gun from his belt and placing it in one of her hands. "You remember how to use it?"

She swallowed nervously. "I think so..."

"Good." He grasped firmly her free hand and lead her out of the cabin. They ran down the corridor and, as they were about to turn one of the corners, another attacker appeared and fired at them. She thanked her brother's quick reflexes, who pushed both of them back into the corridor, avoiding the bullets. He took his own gun out, ready to fire it, when both siblings heard a couple of shots and a man's scream of agony. After exchanging a perplex gaze, both prepared themselves. Eleanor felt her whole arm shaking with fear and adrenaline. They stepped out of the corridor, their arms stretched out.

"Daniels!" Eleanor exclaimed, immediately lowering her arm and running up to him. The man with black clothes was laying dead on the floor, face down.

"We could've killed you, Dave." Bernard exclaimed, following her sister.

Their friend snorted as he patted Eleanor's back, who was giving him a quick hug. "Fuck off Bernard, ya wouldn't have time to even take your glasses off!"

The three started to head to the deck. "Where's Henderson?" Asked Eleanor, worried.

"Up, preparin' the rodeo for us." Answered Daniels with a little smirk which Burns soon copied.

"Oh, _no-way._ Don't you boys dare leaving me just to blow off steam!" Eleanor exclaimed, making both of their smirks grow. After avoiding another attacker, which Daniels and Burns took charge of, the three found themselves on the deck. It was a chaos. People were screaming and running up and down the ship; others were jumping over the gunwale. She recognized some of their workers, leading the horses to the water or simply jumping out of the boat. However, the people who claimed her attention were the passengers and workers that were laying on the ground, dead. She felt tears forming in her eyes.

The warmth of two strong hands, one giving a squeeze to her free hand, the other closed firmly around her wrist, reminded her that they were still alive. "Don't look," she heard Bernie's soft voice.

Obeying, she swallowed her tears and let her brother and friend drag her to the boat's prow. There, Eleanor saw quite the comical picture. Henderson was crouching behind an improvised barricade composed of chairs and tables, shouting excitedly like a little boy during Christmas while firing his revolvers. His inner cowboy had taken control of her friend. And, on Henderson's left, there was Dr. Chamberlain, covering for protection while jumping every time a gun was fired. He had his book and his umbrella pressed against his chest as if they were shields. After he killed the last of the men in black robes, Henderson faced them with a big smile. "Ah, Doc! Look who decided to join the party!"

The three went quickly towards them, crouching behind the tables. "How can you be so damn happy when this whole boat is _on fire!_ " Eleanor exclaimed. The blonde cowboy just winked at her, then proceeded to reload what he called his _"two girls"_.

"Nellie," Bernard said, "I want you to jump out' this boat an' swim as fast as you can to the shore."

She faked laugh, humorless. "I'm not goin' anywhere without any of you!"

"Oh, of course ya are, girl." Said Henderson seriously. Right after, her brother shoved her over the gunwale, making her scream because of the shock as she was swallowed by the frozen waters of the Nile.

* * *

"Evy, Addie!" Adele had never been so happy to see Jonathan Carnahan.

"Jonathan!" She yelled. She hugged him with the force of a boa constrictor. "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing of importance, love. Just some crazy sect that has decided to start a bonfire and are shooting everybody!" He shrieked sarcastically. Her brown eyes widened in fear as she felt her whole body grow heavy. Mr. Carnahan didn't seem to notice her panic.

"What...?" She whispered. "How did those men get in the boat?"

"No one seems to know," Said he, already dragging her down the corridor. "Come, let's go find Evy!" They continued their way, screaming for Evelyn. Adele's mind was racing; could the shadow she had seen be the attackers Jonathan had spoken of? If so, how could _no one_ have noticed them before? Once they were reaching her employer's cabin, Mr. Carnahan released her hand and sprinted into the room. "Evy-!"

Adele heard a man screaming in pain and, fearing the worst, she rushed towards the cabin's entrance, only to slam herself against Jonathan's back. "Jonathan! Are you-" She interrupted herself mid-sentence when she saw a man rolling on a couch, the fire quickly devouring his black clothes. She was paralyzed. Mr. Carnahan suddenly dove for something on the floor, but the man, still on fire, copied him and moved his arm, holding a hook towards the European. Mr. Carnahan spread his arms while pushing her out of the room, guiding her away from the cabin on fire and the assailant.

"What have you done?! You pushed that man!"

"Excuse me if I was busy thinking my sister was being burnt!"

They ran again until they reached the deck. "Look, Jonathan!" Adele exclaimed happily, pointing at something in the water. He looked, and relief flooded through his body as he recognised his sister and O'Connell swimming towards the river's bank.

"Great! Now that we know they're safe, how about we go find the box and get out of here!" People were going in all directions, forming a riot. She could hear the horses neighing scared as they both reassumed the running.

"What are you talking about? Have you lost the map?!" She shouted, confused. He didn't answered, just kept running. Adele didn't know where they were going, and she honestly didn't care. She just wanted to be by her friend's side, even if Mr. Carnahan wasn't the most reliable of men. The smoke made her feel exhausted. Jonathan stopped his sprint, trying to get back his breath too. She followed suit, noticing they were in the prow. Both heard yells of glee coming from their left. Facing that direction, she saw four men, three of them shooting two men in black robes and the other jumping in fear. Jonathan shook his head.

"Americans..." He mumbled, irritated. Suddenly, the man who had attacked them in Evelyn's cabin appeared, charging furiously at them. Acting by reflex, Mr. Carnahan pushed her as hard as he could, trying to get her out of the way. In a second, Adele lost her balance and found herself falling over the edge of the boat, towards her worst fear.

* * *

 _"I'm gonna kill them, I'm gonna kill them..."_ Eleanor kept thinking viciously, fuming as she swam back to the surface. She gasped for air, feeling the cold digging into her bones. She casted one last glance towards the boat and then forced herself to start swimming, before she caught a hypotherm or a crocodile noticed her. She hadn't advanced much when behind her she heard a body colliding with the water. She turned around quickly, hoping to see Bernie's or one of her friends' head coming out of the water. But after some seconds passed, nothing but a few bubbles indicated that something had happened. Whoever had fallen, it seemed he or she wasn't going to come out onto the surface.

 _"At least not by himself..."_ Eleanor thought.

* * *

She was drowning. The water was icy, making her skin ache. She was moving desperately her limbs; her arms drew a circle, trying to imitate the proper movements of swimmers, and her legs kicked the water up and down as fast as she could. But it wasn't working. The river didn't seem willing to give her a lull, and Adele was convinced that she was going to keep drowning until she reached the bottom of the river; she would die right there, the Nile would be her tomb. She was running out of air, and could barely discerned an orange light above her; the boat on fire. Oddly enough, she briefly wondered which death was worse; to die burnt or to die drown. Her vision was more and more blurred, and her lungs were burning. She thought of the irony of wanting to cry below water. On a desperate move, she kicked her legs one last time, but nothing happened. She was drowning.

So, she prayed. She closed her eyes and prayed to God. So concentrated was the woman on her prayers that she faintly felt something grasping her arm, pulling her up towards the surface, towards life.

* * *

Eleanor first saw her hair, floating above her head. The woman wasn't moving. She was wearing only a robe and a nightgown, that much she was able to distingish, although it was too dark to make out her features. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the cold soaking her, stabbing her skin like hundreds of tiny blades, she forced herself to swim faster. When she finally reached the body, she quickly grabbed the woman's pale arm and started to swim back to the surface. Her boots weren't making it easy, but after a few seconds, she finally made it. She took a deep breath and quickly pulled the woman's arm, getting a hold of her from underneath her shoulders and pulling as fast as she could her head out of the water. The woman was still concious, and she began to cough violently. When she was done, she started to tremble while moving her legs and arms, confused. Eleanor got a kick on her stomach that made her almost go back below water. "Stop!" She said. "Stop, or we'll both drown!"

The woman immediately did as told, trying to turn around to look at her saviour. However, Eleanor didn't allow her. She wrapped an arm around her torso and began to swim towards the shore, using both of her legs and her right arm. Once their feet were able to touch the sand, Eleanor let go of the other woman, and both made their way to land tiredly, falling to their knees the moment they got out of the water. She wringed her black hair and white blouse as best as she could. Most people, the majority of them a part of the workers they had hired, and horses were already on the bank, waiting for the rest or getting out of the water.

"You were on the docks..." A female voice said. She turned to her left, finding the familiar British woman's visage. She looked paler than she remembered, her lips colored with purple shadows and her hair clinging to her back and chest. Her eyes were not cold anymore, nor were they judging her; instead, she was looking at her inquiringly. Slowly, Eleanor nodded.

"Yeah..." The woman blinked.

"Thank you." She said, and Eleanor could see that, unlike when she had thanked her for her hat in the docks, this time the woman was being sincere.

Before she could answer her, the American heard something that made her stop dead in her tracks. "Come, get 'em out of the water! Get 'em out of the water!" Henderson's voice reached her ears. She glanced to the opposite direction of the woman, finding the two of her friends as well as her brother and Dr. Chamberlain, all of them soaked. She got up and headed to their encounter. Henderson was holding the reins of two horses while leading them out of the water; she smiled, thinking about the love the two of them shared for the animals. Daniels and Bernard were not far behind, the water still reaching below their knees. David said something grumpily to her brother before walking away, only to trip and fall to his knees, splashing water everywhere. She chuckled in a very unladylike way, not being able to help herself. His brother looked at his hat as he emptied it of water; miraculously, his spectacles were still intact, resting on his nose. She approached him, gaining his attention and a smile. Burns opened his mouth to greet her, but was cut by a sharp slap on the back of the neck.

"Wha-?" Again, Eleanor cut him mid-sentence with a bear hug.

"You ever do this to me again, Bernard Burns, and I kill you." She said burying her face in his shoulder. Sighing to himself, he returned the hug.

* * *

 **A.N/: No lame excuses; finally here it is! Sorry this chapter it's shorter; I truly hate to cut it here, but otherwise it would have taken me about another two weeks or so to post it. Agh... Well, it'll have to do. Any guess concerning Eleanor's _"skills"_ ?**

 **Here's a hint: NO, she doesn't have an amazing past life in which she was a badass warrior/princess and saved the day, earning amazing fight skills and a certain priest's wrath.**

 **I can't thank everyone who has read, followed, faved and reviewed enough ^^ Hope you enjoy your reading!**

 **I'm not sure when I'll be able to update, but I'll try to do it as soon as possible.**

 **~Se acerca el invierno**

* * *

 _ **Wet blanket =**_ **A person who's a killjoy**

 _ **Jane =**_ **Any female**

 _ **Breezer =**_ **A convertible car**


	5. IV Sahara's spy

**_IV. Sahara's_ _spy_**

"Easy, boy…" She whispered gently, one hand carefully raised. The horse neighed as its hooves beat the river's water, rocking its head up and down while making the reins fly in the air at the same pace. With quick reflexes, Eleanor took hold of the reins, securing them firmly in her fist. Her other hand shot up to the stallion's neck, rubbing his pitch black, soaked coat in an attempt to soothe him. After a few jerks from the stubborn animal that nearly made her lose her grip, the horse began to show signs of appeasement, giving her whole arm a lull. She stroked him once more fondly, with a full smile gracing her face, still drenched from head to toe due to their late-night-swim. "There, not so bad, uh?"

With small steps, and glancing over her shoulder every two seconds, she led the horse out of the water, further into the shore and close to where her brother was standing alongside their friends. The three of them appeared to be deep in conversation, their gaze directed to something at the opposite side of the river and small smirks drawn on their lips. The three men stopped talking once she got by their side. "What are you boys looking at?" She asked, only to be ignored. The young woman followed their intense gaze, finding four other people standing at the other side of the river. One of them was a woman, and Eleanor couldn't help but notice the heat rising up to her cheeks and neck, causing her to blush in embarrassment. Turning around, she slapped hard Bernie's shoulder again, breaking the spell all of them had been put under. "Oi! You makin' a habit out a' this?" He asked with tongue in cheek.

"Only when you deserve it! Need I to remind you of Lizzie?" That made all humor disappear from his blue eyes. Clearing awkwardly his throat, he quickly avoided both her glare and stealing a last glance at the woman soaked in a very sheer nightgown… It didn't help how the white color of the fabric made her even more easily spotted.

"I…" Gesturing with his finger at somewhere behind him, Bernard simply walked off. Eleanor let out a sigh with a small shake of her head.

"Nellie, ever our bluenose, ready to take the cake from cake-eaters!" Henderson exclaimed.

She rolled her eyes, her fist tightening faintly due to her sudden nerves. "Excuse me if I'd rather not see my brother cheating on his fiancée…" She mumbled, earning a snort from Daniels.

"That ain't cheating, just a man lookin' at a choice bit a' calico, nothin' serious." He said calmly. Right after, he dove his hand inside his jacket's pocket, trying to fish for a cigarette and his lighter. Seconds later, he groaned irritated. "What's a man do to get a gasper?" Henderson chuckled, tossing into his mouth the only piece of tobacco that he hadn't lost to the water or the boat. Daniels glared, looking rather exasperated, at the equally childish and annoying cowboy he called friend but, surprisingly, made no remarks as he simply turned around and walked off too, fuming. Eleanor watched his back, and hoped he'd actually find a cigarette or two soon. Otherwise, he would be too much of a Mrs. Grundy.

* * *

Adele watched as her rescuer suddenly got on her feet and strode rapidly towards somewhere, leaving her with her thoughts. She felt quite ashamed of how she had treated the American woman early in the day. Not that she would ever admit this out loud, though. Pushing aside her contemplations and momentarily forgetting about how cold she was, she forced her legs to stretch themselves, making her stand up. Her chattering teeth and shaky arms didn't make it easy, tempting her to just lay on the sand and curl herself up in a ball to keep some body heat. Nevertheless, Adele shut such thoughts and made her feet move, taking small steps first, then making them bigger as in her body the numbness began to slowly fade. With her hands holding an iron grip on her dressing gown, trying not only to keep warm but also whatever modesty and dignity she had left, she looked at her surroundings. The darkness of the night prevented her from getting a proper look at the people on the shore, but she was able to conclude that none of her companions was among the mass of strangers and horses.

Upon coming to such realization, fear was the first emotion to make an appearance; fear for the Carnahan siblings, and Mr. O'Connell too. Where they alive? Had they survived the attack? If so, where were they now? Her mind and heart were racing. Moreover, what was she going to do if she couldn't find them? Good Lord, she was alone in the middle of the desert! _"Okay Adele, that's enough."_ She told herself firmly. If she continued down that train of thought, she would end up having an anxiety attack.

First things first; finding out where could she go from her current location to the nearest village took priority. She was certain some tribe or village would be settled near the Nile. The European egyptologist looked around once more... Who could she ask for help? She wasn't too kin on walking up to any of the men; with a drenched nightgown, she didn't feel her usual confidence whatsoever. It took her a moment to register that, before deciding, her brain had already deduced that the best would be to remain with her saviour, so her eyes already were looking for her. Finally, she spotted the American woman holding a horse's reins beside a man, both equally soaked. Adele couldn't help but sigh. With nothing but the clothes she wore, there was no place for pride. _"Beggars cannot be chosers,"_ she told herself. Taking one last deep breath, she marched towards them.

* * *

Eleanor noticed her first through the corner of her eye, walking towards them with her familiar resolute pace. Even drenched and almost as pale as a corpse, that woman still managed to look all-dignified. The Brit was holding her dressing gown, trying to cover her body, and her face was set in a determined mask, all of the emotions she had displayed before perfectly covered by her rather aristocratic attitude. Eleanor still hadn't decided whether she admired that or was bothered by it... Hmm, possibly both. She turned around, facing her. Henderson glanced to his right too then, confused, bu when the British woman appeared in his line of vision, his facial expression turned contemplative, much like the first time he had seen her back at the boat's bar. However, this time the emotions only remained in his eyes, the rest of his face carefully guarded with his best poker face.

"Excuse me, miss?" Her voice wasn't as delicate nor high-pitched as he had imagined, and was slightly raspy, probably because of the cold of the night. "We didn't introduce ourselves. My name's Adele Jennings, and I'm afraid I'm lost. I can't find my friends anywhere here, and I was wondering if you would mind if I'd go with you until we reach the nearest village."

 _"Straight to the point, uh?"_ Henderson couldn't help but think, faintly amused. He casted a quick glance towards Nellie, who looked at a loss of words. The Brit broad, he noticed, seemed slightly impatient. He was debating whether to save Eleanor from her own shyness or let himself enjoy the show, when said woman surprised him speaking up. "I... don't think I can decide that, Miss Jennings. I mean, I'm not travelling alone, I'd better consult it with my brother and our friends, and I'm not sure they..."

Laughing mentally to himself, he interrupted his friend. "Bushwa! I'm sure we can find room for a lady in distress." He joked while smirking, in an effort to lessen Eleanor's nerves and the Brit's tension. He changed his smirk for a charming smile, extending his hand towards the Brit, who was giving him an unimpressed look and had her jaw clenched. "Howard Henderson, miss." The woman forced a little smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and grasped her smaller hand around his. He tried to ignore both, how soft and cold her skin felt against his, as well as the small disappointment formed in the pit of his stomach as they shook hands. However, he didn't allow his smile to fall.

"Mr. Henderson," She released her grip. "Are you certain that I won't be an inconvenient to you and miss...?" The broad glanced at his friend, uncertain.

"Eleanor." Spoke up the American woman, "I'm Eleanor Burns." She said, her hand unconsciously playing with the horse's reins, not enough to bother the animal, though.

The Brit, _"-No, not broad or Brit; Adele."_ He mentally corrected himself. Adele nodded, this time gazing at Nellie. "Miss Burns... Can I count with your help then?"

The two opened their mouths to answer when someone beat them. "Help fer what?"

The three turned to look at the man who had spoken. "Hey, Daniels. Miss Jennings here's lost, asked if she could come with us to the nearest village to look for 'er friends there." Henderson easily summarized their conversation.

"Precisely." Adele added, faintly annoyed that the cowboy had answered for her. The other man, addressed as Daniels, pored over her appearance, his dark eyes hard and impassive, before responding.

"That so? Tell me Miss Jennings, where ya goin'?" He asked.

She frowned, confused. "With all due respects, Mr. Daniels, is it? I don't see how that's your concern." Her voice was determined, just like her demeanour. Henderson resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow.

Daniels gave her a false smile which radiated sarcasm. "Listen 'ere, miss. It's my damn business when ya intend to come with me an' my diggers and possibly spend my money, so I'll ask again. Where ya goin'?" Eleanor kept flickering her gaze between them, nervous. She knew David didn't appreciated being bossed around, especially by a woman he had met only a couple of minutes ago.

Miss Jennings' jaw tensed, before relaxing a bit. "My peers and I planned a journey through the Sahara, we want to make some research on Ancient Egypt history." She reluctantly said, not sure if she should specified her desired location.

"Ya a historian or somethin' like that?" Henderson asked, his brows furrowed with interest. Can it be...?

"An archaeologist, actually." Yes, she was the one. The three Americans exchanged looks before David restarted the conversation.

"Ya lookin' fer Hamunaptra?" The man bluntly asked, surprise flickering through the woman's features.

"How could you know...?"

"That's where we're goin' too, miss." Answered Henderson again, gaining once more her interest, her brown eyes now focused intently on him. He discovered himself enjoying her whole attention. Definitely an improvement from her previous reactions. Before she could say something else, he spoke once more. "Just wonderin', Miss Jennings, ya happen to know a Brit, John Carnahan...?"

"Yes, of course, he's one of my companions! Have you seen him, Mr. Henderson? Is he alright?" She asked quickly.

"We saw 'im at the other side a' the river, was with two other men an' a broad." Answered Daniels this time.

Adele nodded excitedly, glad that they were all alive. "Good, very good! I could meet with them in the next village."

A few moments of silence passed, before Daniels finally nodded. "Fine. Enjoy our company, Miss Jennings." He added before walking away, his voice dripping with sarcasm once more. A silence formed among them, in which Henderson busied himself with looking at the British woman. Pale skin, even whiter than he recalled due to the cold temperature and their spontaneous freezing bath, graced with a couple of moles, one below her left ear and the other in the left side of her jaw. Full and chapped lips, a shade too dark because of the same reason of her paleness; dark hair framing her soft-featured face, clinging to her shoulders and rather flat chest. If he remembered correctly, her hair was of a lighter shadow, and instead of dark brown as it appeared now, wet under the moonlight, it was auburn. He loved natural redheads. And her eyes, like two wells in which, if you leant in too much, you could end up falling down. He noticed the small shake of her arms, as well as Nellie's chattering teeth. He was chilly too, although did a better job at disguising it. Henderson averted his eyes from the Brit to look at Nellie, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Stick close to Bernie, I'll go find the Bulgarian." He gave a brotherly squeeze to her shoulder and, after casting a last glance at the archaeologist, turned to walk away. The twists of fate were most definitely curious...

* * *

They had been walking only for a few minutes and Eleanor couldn't stand the silence anymore. Miss Jennings was by her side, quiet with a rather fast gait, glaring distrustfully every now and again towards the horse the American was leading at her other side, having claimed it as her own. Other than that, they hadn't spoken, nor spared a look, to each other... And it was driving her crazy.

Obviously enough, she doubted Miss Jennings cared about it; back in America she had already encountered similar people, too vain or that had a vision too high of themselves to strike up conversation with her likes. Not that she craved the company of such people, which she liked to call pompous _bourgeoisie_. She wondered what all those new riches would say if they heard her reciting Latin, saw her dancing to the popular jazz, or they saw the various volumes of literature she had managed to afford and that they boasted about reading as pastime. She clearly wasn't ashamed of her origins, nor of the way she had handled her life; why was so disturbing, so dishonorable that her family and her had to work for what they had? After all, that upper middle class, so proud and respectable, had done the same to get their new wealth... How quickly people forget their origins. _"M_ _aybe it's for the better..."_ Eleanor thought; if Miss Jennings fit into those stereotypes, she'd rather hold the less amount of conversation possible with her. So far, the Brit seemed respectable enough, but Eleanor supposed she would prefer the company of someone of higher class, more equal to her status. Eleanor's speech was educated enough, but not sufficient to fool the highest of society. But then... She gulped. She spied the Brit through the corner of her eye. Was she really an archaeologist? What study could she possibly want to do in a place like Hamunaptra, a tale? Scientists based their knowledge just in logic and tangible evidence, she knew that much. Were not historians like that too?

She really wished she had enough guts to ask her all of these questions... Anyway, Miss Jennings probably had better things to think about; the whereabouts of her friends, for example. Eleanor prefered not to disturb her. Finally, they arrived to the small village Mr. Gabor and a couple of diggers had indicated. Although, rather than a village itself, it was just lots of tents placed in a -more or less- regular space. Inside some of them a fire's light reflected itself on the tents' side, drawing shadows.

Both women stopped as did the rest of their group; not far from them, at the front, Daniels faced them along with her brother and Henderson. "Alright everybody! Get some rest, we leave as soon as possible!" Her brother called. Immediately, the twelve diggers that had survived the fire, or had made it to their side of the river, began to ask for settlement. Eleanor frowned. What was the rush...? She'd have to ask Bernie later. A worker took her stallion's reins, leading him with the rest of the horses. They only had eight, counting with her own. Shrugging, she followed Miss Jennings, who was already peeking her head inside one of the tents. She stood waiting behind her, hearing fluent Arabic spoken rapidly. A moment later, the Brit looked at her.

"They say the two of us can stay here for the night. Faaria and her daughters will give us dry clothes. Come..." Miss Jennings held the covering of the tent open for her, and reluctantly, Eleanor stepped inside, immediately feeling the warmth of the small fire lit. A middle-aged woman and two girls, one around thirteen and the other around sixteen, were sitting on the floor near the fire. The three of them were wearing veils on their heads. While the youngest girl was gazing at her with curious eyes, her mother and sister were much sterner. She gulped, nervous. She didn't spoke a word of their language, so not knowing how to express her gratitude, she simply bowed her head, tentatively sitting near the fire and in front of them. Adele entered the tent too, and after bowing her head, sat down and said something to them. The British woman and Faaria conversed quietly for a few seconds, when the woman commanded her daughters something, making both of them stand. The eldest was sent out of the tent, while the youngest went looking for something in another kind of room, separated from the main room by a curtain. Faaria offered them a loaf of bread for each, which they took without hesitation. Eleanor tried to take small bites despite how hungry she was; after looking around, she deduced this family didn't have much, probably they were quite poor, so she couldn't bring herself to put her hunger ahead of this family's necessities... Their situation hit pretty close to home. Surprised, she caught sight of Miss Jennings doing exactly the same. Once they were done, both Adele and Eleanor gave the rest of the bread back.

Not long after, the eldest child came with a bucket of water almost overflowing. The girl left it on a corner of the tent and sat beside her mother, helping her cook something which they had placed above the fire, adding spices. The younger girl came back, holding some clothes folded in her arms, blankets, and grasping a small perfumed bottle in one hand. She offered them to the foreign women and, after her mother said something to her, she went back inside the other room, not before giving them one last inquisitive look. Faaria and her daughter served them that kind of soup and, after the woman said something to Adele which made her nod, mother and daughter disappeared behind the curtain.

Miss Jennings turned to her. "Faaria said we could use that water to drink and, afterwards, bath if we wish. In the bottle there's oil for our hair. We will sleep here."

They finished their dinner and drank some water. "Would you mind if I bath first? I want to get out of these clothes as soon as possible..." Miss Jennings asked her. Eleanor considered it; even if wet, her pants and blouse were a little more warm than the Brit's nightgown, so she nodded.

"Go ahead." With that, she gave Miss Jennings her back. After a few minutes in which only the sound of the water echoed through the tent, Eleanor found enough courage to break the silence. "Miss Jennings..." The sound of water stopped shortly.

"Yes?" Answered the other woman, impatience laced in her voice.

"Do you really believe the city exists?" Eleanor asked. She didn't hear the water anymore, instead the sound of clothes being unfolded reached her ears.

"I can't be sure, but I'm willing to give it a try." She answered her after a moment. "I'm decent. It's your turn now, Miss Burns." Eleanor turned around and saw the archaeologist dressed in a pretty dark green dress; not as neatly made as the ones she had seen at the port's market, lacking embroideries and such, but thought for functionality. She stood up with the clothes in her arms and went towards the bucket, which now was half empty. She placed her dress on the carpets that formed the tent's floor and, after making sure Miss Jennings had her back to her, undressed and quickly began to wash away the sand from her skin. "What about you? What made you and your brother want to go there?"

Eleanor considered which answer should she gave her. Would she laugh if she told her that they were actually hoping to find the pharaoh's treasure? "... It sounded like a great opportunity." She took the bottle and dropped the oil on her head.

"Care to share what for?" Miss Jennings asked with somehow a neutral voice.

She sighed. "Wealth, I guess... Gold..." She finished washing and, after drying herself, Eleanor quickly put on her undergarments and the dress left for her. It was dark grey, the shade of color that Mother always told her that brought out the blue of her eyes. She turned around, combing her black hair with her fingers. "You can turn around, Miss Jennings..." Said woman's back was stiff, she could tell. _"I knew I shouldn't have said it..."_ Eleanor thought nervous.

Adele turned around, and faced her with cold eyes. Yes, she had screwed it... Without sparing her a look, the Brit took a blanket and laid down on the floor. Eleanor followed suit, keeping her distance. She felt the need of saying something, but didn't think anything could improve the situation. Her body was beginning to relax, when the voice of the other woman startled her.

"So your brother is... a treasure hunter."

Eleanor swallowed. The fire had nearly died, but the blanket kept her warm enough. "He isn't. None of us are..." She hadn't planned on saying anything else, but Miss Jennings' _"hmm"_ , full of disbelief, made her change her mind. "You know, miss, my brother actually has a job at a bank, as an accountant. We're no crooks..." She didn't add more. What for? Miss Jennings would think no better, nor would she try to understand. People like her didn't try to understand.

* * *

Adele mulled over the American's statement. She had hit a nerve, but could Miss Burns blame her? If they just wanted to take as much gold as possible, she wouldn't be part of it. For God's sake, as an archaeologist she should report people like them. All they cared for was money... _"Guess that's what happens when you don't have it..."_ A voice inside her head told her. She swallowed. Miss Burns was a quiet woman, timid and who rarely spoke unless spoken to, yet she had the feeling that the black-haired woman was also one of those people who had a lot to tell despite her shy nature. Perhaps her first impressions of Miss Burns were wrong... Well, why not find out?

"... What about you?" She finally asked. Silence was her only response. She thought the American wasn't going to answer her, when she heard her quiet response.

"What about me?" Adele couldn't help but roll her eyes. The fire was gone now, only the embers were left.

"Do you have a job too, Miss Burns?"

"I do... Are you going to judge me because of it?" She asked, sounding genuinely curious.

That made Adele frown. "Why would I?"

She heard Miss Burns' sigh. "Well, because. Studying and working aren't considered precisely the Bee's Knees... Besides, is what all members of upper class have always done." Eleanor mumbled.

"... If that's so, Miss Burns, it actually makes my opinion of you more positive." The archaeologist answered. Adele considered adding an apology for her early attitude, but quickly decided against it.

A few minutes passed, before Eleanor spoke again. "Can you tell me about Hamunaptra? I only know it's a lost city, a legend, in which supposedly a pharaoh dug in his wealth..."

This time, Adele doubted. "There's an academic war of sorts between scholars. Some firmly deny its existence, opposed to those who believe that the city could have actually existed. Clearly, my peers and I are on that side." She finally said. "Historically, there are sources which confirm that during the Second Intermediate Period, the pharaohs of the sixteenth dynasty ordered the construction of a city to guard the royal treasures which the pharaohs would need in the underworld; by the way, that's also why it's called the City of the Dead. However, that's all the official data known. The rest of information comes from other archaeologists' interpretations, and the myths and legends made up by the locals to attract tourism." She took care of avoid mentioning that the map Jonathan had found verified that the city was real, and probably housed not only Seti I's fortune, but also the riches of most pharaohs of the dynasties of the New Kingdom.

"...Thank you." Eleanor said eventually. Even though they couldn't see each other, Adele moved her head towards Eleanor's voice, trying to look at the woman. She could only catch sight of the American's silhouette, lying on her back. "I... I needed to know, if we stand a chance."

That made Adele gulp; not even less than twenty-four hours ago, she had said something very similar to Mr. O'Connell. Flapper or not, perhaps they were more similar than she first ever thought. "You're welcome." The Brit answered smoothly. "Get some rest, Miss Burns, you heard your brother." With that, she laid on her side, giving her back to the American. She didn't like feeling speechless, nor contrite, no matter how small her guilt was.

* * *

Ahmed walked with ease among the shadows, his small feet making no sound. Years ago, he had mastered the art of silence; Cairo streets taught you that much if you were to survive. He had followed the big group of foreigners even before the flames had consumed the boat. He had seen the man and the lady with the Egyptian men at port, looking through the market's stalls. They had to be rich, how else would they have so many people working for them? His sensitive ear caught glimpse of a seller talking with his wife. Apparently the foreigners weren't English or French; they had come from across the ocean, from America. He had heard of that country before, especially after the Great War. It was the land of opportunities, of new riches; that just uplifted his thoughts regarding the weight of those Yanks' pockets. So he had sneaked among the boat's passengers, not really giving much thought about where were they going; the simple idea of getting hold of a good handful of coins completely shutting any common sense he had learned in the streets. So engrossed was he with the promise of money, that he hadn't expected one of the servers to find him in the kitchen, getting a handful of fried chicken from the dishes. But then, that lady had come to his aid.

He briefly thought about respecting her not stealing from her, but quickly opted for following his original plan, telling himself that he needed whatever money she owned more than her or her husband and friends. Ahmed hadn't seen how had started the fire, but he'd immediately jumped, swimming to shore and not bothering to see if he would be in the same side of the Nile as his prey. He blessed Allah for his luck, seeing that most people had come in the same direction, including the Americans. After following them, he had stopped to observe in which tent would sleep each foreigner. The lady would sleep with another woman, while her husband would sleep with the other men. He now walked towards the men's tent, the sand helping to soften his footsteps. He halted in front of the entrance, listening carefully. Silence ruled the air, aside from some snores. He had his arm extended, reaching for the tent's cloth, when a large hand covered his mouth and a strong arm encircled his thin waist, pressing him against someone who lift him and dragged him away from the tents. He struggled, but nothing made a difference; he was dragged into the darkness.

* * *

The next morning, when the first sunrays were barely appearing in the east, the noise of people moving and Daniels' voice woke Eleanor up. What had happened now? Miss Jennings was awake too, confused. She had recovered some color skin, although she was naturally pale, and looked quite refreshed, with her long hair dry and shiny. Even with bags under her eyes, she still looked pretty. Eleanor couldn't help but envy her a little. After exchanging a glance, they both got out of the tent. It was still a bit dark, the air a little cool too, but there was enough light to watch clearly their surroundings.

"Find those damn beasts right now!" Daniels was barking orders, beyond pissed off. Eleanor jogged up to him, Miss Jennings following not far behind.

"Dave! What's going on?" He turned to them.

"The horses, only two remain, all the rest gone! That's what!" They looked behind him towards Burns and Henderson. "Ya found any?"

Burns shook his head. "None, no hooves, nothin'."

"I spoke with the fellas that tied 'em to the post, all say they made sure the horses were well tied." Henderson added.

Daniels snorted. "Obviously they fuckin' didn't."

"Dave," Said Burns, lacking conviction. "I looked at the two horses, their leashes are strong. Maybe it's just an accident."

"Bernie," Eleanor spoke up, surprising Miss Jennings. "Think about it. If the same men tied all the horses, why did two of them remain and the rest escaped?"

In that moment, Adele couldn't take it more. "Miss Burns is right." The four Americans turned to look at her. "First the boat where two groups journeying for Hamunaptra travelled is set on fire, and now this?" She sighed, hoping her suspicions were actually wrong. "I think it's safe to say that someone doesn't want us to reach the City."

An uncomfortable silence formed among them for five long minutes before it was broken. "Then what we do?" Burns finally asked, pushing his glasses up.

"We continue..." Eleanor's small voice said quietly, instead of calm or nervous, determined. "If Miss Jennings' theory is indeed right, that means Hamunaptra is more than a myth, it _is_ real."

After a moment, Daniels nodded. "Fine." He turned to Henderson. "Make everybody move, I'll get the guides an' we'll go buy horses an' stuff again. I'm not losin' that bet." He walked off, the other four watching after him.

Suddenly, Eleanor cleared her throat, turning her head towards her brother. "So, what bet?"

* * *

"Have you seen an English woman? Long dark hair, hazel eyes... She probably was with three other men!" Adele asked frantically the old woman in Arabic. However, she only received a shook of her veiled head.

"There was a foreigner woman along with the men you speak of, but they're no longer here. My husband saw them leave after buying Labib camels for their journey." She said, making Adele sigh. "I hope you find your friends soon, child." She added, seeing the faintly tired look of the younger woman.

"Thank you." The woman nodded, and they both parted ways. On one hand, Adele felt happy and reassured; Evy was already on her way to Hamunaptra, and hopefully they would win the bet. _"That's if they arrive before the Cowbell Troop"_ She couldn't help but think sarcastically as the loud voices of Mr. Burns and Mr. Daniels echoed all over the market as they argued with Labib. But where was the third one...? A loud neigh at her back startled her, making her spin around with a hand over her heart. _"Why, speak of the devil..."_

"Sorry," The blonde man said. However, the faint rising of the corner of his mouth told her he wasn't sorry in the least. "Thought ya wouldn't be scared..." He was wearing again his cowboy hat and kerchief, completing his outfit. Something that suspiciously smelt like tobacco was the final touch on that picture.

"I assure you, Mr. Henderson, it takes more than just that loud mouth of yours to scare me." She said, looking into his blue eyes and earning a full smirk from the handsome American. The white horse he was holding abruptly lifted its head, making her take a step back.

He chuckled. "A horse then?"

She pursed her lips. "What do you want, Mr. Henderson?"

"Just wanted to inform ya, one a' the fellas said your friends already left. Maybe ya'll be able to meet 'em in Hamunaptra."

"I already found out that much on my own, thank you." She was about to turn away, ready to search for Miss Burns, when he spoke again.

"Can I ask somethin'?" He didn't wait for a reply. "Whatever I've done to make ya think so badly a' me?"

She froze... Alright, that was unexpected. Nevertheless, Adele wasn't one to back off. "Let's say oil and water don't mix well, sir... Don't take it too personally." She added half-heartedly. They kept a staring contest, none of them willing to give up. She barely caught glimpse of the man's disappointment, realizing her words had been a little too gratuitous. But she had been honest, and hadn't said anything untrue, had she? She was a sensible, serious high-class, British archaeologist. Even if handsome, he was a loud, rogue-looking middle-class, American cowboy. Where she fancied history, wine and long dresses, he favored animals, hard liquor and shameless flirt. Being realistic, what hopes did they have of actually forming something steady between them? She had already met men like him. Did he think she would accept to be just another conquest?

With a more serious expression and a tight smile, he chuckled again. "Quite spirited, uh?" She looked at him, slightly confused. After that, he still tried to make the most of their encounter? "Anyway, we're leavin' now, figured out ya'd prefer ride with Nellie. She's over there." He pointed to his left. She followed his extended, tanned arm, her eyes coming across the image of the American woman tightening her black horse's girth. She looked back to Mr. Henderson, only to find he had already walked away. There it was her remorse again, making a small appearance before she cleared her thoughts. She walked towards Miss Burns, keeping her distance with the animal she now owned. The American looked up to her.

"Miss Jennings," She held the horse's reins.

"I thought I could ride with you until we reach Hamunaptra, seeing that Mr. Daniels refuses to buy a horse for me."

Eleanor frowned. "Why does he?"

Adele couldn't help but roll her eyes. "When I asked him myself, he told me he wouldn't waste any more money than necessary, seeing that I would leave you as soon as we meet with my friends." She softened Mr. Daniels' words.

"Oh... Alright then." With surprising ease, and having in mind that she was wearing a dress, Miss Burns easily made herself comfortable atop of her stallion. She offered the Brit her hand, which Adele gracefully ignored, quickly copying the other woman and climbing behind her. "I didn't think you'd be so skilled with a horse."

"I may not be fond of animals, Miss Burns, but I've been a horsewoman since I was eight." She answered, placing her hands at her sides. Eleanor gazed down at the gesture before looking ahead. "It's quite surprising to see you're gifted with horse riding, though."

The American didn't know whether to be offended or flattered by the comment. "My father has a horse farm back in the States, breeds them for a living. Guess you could say my brother and I grew up on the saddle." Eleanor told her, glancing once more at the Brit's arms resting loosely by her legs. "You may want to hold onto me, Miss Jennings..." She said, imitating the other woman's speech with a little smirk. Right after, her two friends and her brother dug their heels on their horses' sides, instantly galloping after Mr. Gabor's camel as he led the way towards the City of the Dead. Eleanor's smirk grew as she did the same. Well enough, she heard the archaeologist's surprised yelp, feeling at once the other woman's thin arms around her waist. Eleanor had watched from afar that Howard's attempts at reconciliation had been a failure, but she had also seen how bothered her friend had looked as he got away from Miss Jennings. Even if she didn't agree with his excesive flirts, and in addition didn't understand what was that he found so fascinating in the Brit (aside from her looks), Howard Henderson was a good man deep inside, she knew that much. So that yelp and the arms holding her tightly were a little, sweet revenge for her and her cowboy friend. Eleanor smiled widely, fully enjoying the touch of the wind stroking her face and the adrenaline all over her body as her horse gained speed. Moving the reins, she positioned herself next to Henderson, his brother next to him and Daniels at the other side of the line. Together, they rode into the desert, unaware of all the eyes watching them.

She could feel it, her adventure now had truly began.

* * *

 **A.N/:** **There you go! Gosh, I had so much fun writing this XD Can't wait to get started with the next chapters! Hope you enjoyed your reading. Thanks so much everyone who has read, followed, faved and reviewed ^^**

 **Again, I'm not sure when I'll be able to update but, as always, I'll try to do it as soon as possible.**

 **~Se acerca el invierno**

* * *

 _ **Bluenose = [: Wet blanket]**_ **A person who's a killjoy**

 _ **Cake-eater =**_ **A ladies man**

 _ **Choice bit of calico =**_ **A very desireable woman**

 _ **Gasper =**_ **A cigarette**

 _ **Mrs. Grundy =**_ **A** **n uptight or very straight-laced individual**

 _ **Bushwa! =**_ **Bullshit!**

 ** _Bee's Knees_ = The best**


	6. V Gold's City

**_V. Gold's City_**

"What was you talking about with the broad?"

"Nothin'."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"... She's pretty, ain't she?" Added Burns.

"Pretty enough to make Henderson go sore." Answered Dave, not really giving his opinion about the woman herself.

"Didn't know my love life interested ya two that much." The blonde American answered, still chewing his tobacco as if it was a cherry gum.

"It don't, we just curious about what made ya cut your banter for longer than an hour." Daniels remarked.

For the first time since they had slowed down, allowing their horses to catch their breath, Henderson smirked. "Ya sayin' ya want it back, Dave?"

"Don't get smart, Howie."

"Anyway, why does it matter? She's just another a' your flirts, right?" Asked Burns, adjusting his hat to cast some shade over his eyes. He looked at the cowboy, Daniels copying him.

Henderson shrugged. "Sure." He answered. "The important thing is the treasure. We gotta focus on that."

"Yeah." Said Burns.

Daniels nodded, turning his head back to the front. "We better make it up to all the bucks we wasted."

After riding for more than two hours straight, the whole group had been forced to slow their paces; the horses were panting and sweating, and all animals and humans needed a rest. The heat was burning, only adding intensity to the suffocating feeling. They had been advised that pushing themselves over the edge in such extreme conditions would only do worse to them; they would never reach the City, they would never be rich. So they had to take a little break. Daniels didn't like it; they had already wasted enough time, and he wasn't losing that bet with O'Connell. A cocky underpayed gangster wasn't gonna beat him. He also was able to appreciate water for real; not that he wouldn't prefer a glass of Bourbon. He tried not to think of the possibility of not finding their gold. What would they do if they only found rocks and sand? Mentally shaking his head, he glanced over his shoulder towards Nellie. She was riding somewhere in the middle of the caravan, with her long black hair softly moving because of the breeze. She had her mouth slightly opened and her eyes squinted. He could even see Henderson's crush's arms around Nellie's waist. Her stallion was strong, and a true daredevil; the beast had been able to keep up with their horses while carrying two people. No wonder Nellie had claimed it; she had a thing for tall and dark, thinking every poor soul had something good within itself. He both loved and detested that trait of hers; she almost pushed the limit of naivety.

"You will, good friends." A nasal voice got into their conversation, making Daniels look back to the horizon.

"Ya seen the treasure?" Henderson asked the Bulgarian, who was perched atop his camel, holding in his right hand a crop.

Beni snorted. "Would I be here if I had?"

"Then how can you tell?" Asked Bernie this time, squinting his eyes much like his sister. Daniels could easily see the resemblance. Anyone could.

"Why else would those screwballs go wild on fire?"

"Ya only sayin' that because ya heard the Brit say it." Daniels remarked, not really giving a damn about what the Bulgarian was talking about. "We don't even know if the place is real."

"I told you it is."

"So?" A small creak reached their ears. Beni stopped his camel, looking down to the sand. Suddenly he smirked and looked up to them. Confused, the Americans followed his gaze. Burns gulped, Henderson leaned forward as he momentarily ceased his chewing, and Daniels parted a little his lips, setting his eyes apathetically on it. There, beside the camel's hoof, was a human skull, half buried in the sand.

"You see that?" They looked up the Bulgarian. He was wearing now that equally quirky and annoying little smirk, as if telling them he knew something they didn't. "We're getting closer."

* * *

Adele couldn't take the heat anymore. She just couldn't. The sun was bitting her skin, and her head hurt. She was made for cold temperatures, rainy days and frozen winds, not this. She thanked God Miss Burns had taken some distance from the Cowbell Troop; she didn't think anything good could have come out of it had she been with them. She would have probably got involved in an argument with Mr. Daniels, and she was mentally exhausted to argue with anyone right now. She swallowed some saliva; big mistake. Immediately she felt a funny stinging that made her almost cough due to her dry throat. "Miss Burns, water, please." She asked, clearing her throat. God, was this what really meant a hot weather? She was sure Cairo wasn't so merciless. How was it...? Ah, yes. You don't know what you have until you lose it. Miss Burns' left hand appeared within her sight holding their canteen. She took it, realising the American's body and throwing her head back as she swallowed the fresh water. She made herself stop; she couldn't drink the whole canteen, so she offered it back to Eleanor, who put it back inside the saddlebag.

Looking around, she had to admit the landscape was stark, yet beautifully entrancing. She gazed at her right, at the soft curves the sand of the dunes traced, creating nice meandering patterns. From such a far distance, the sand looked so soft and thin that Adele almost felt the urge to get off the horse and bury her hands in it, getting a fist of sand, to later let it fall in between her fingers. Excluding the exagerated heat, she was sure it would feel incredibly nice. She couldn't help but think about Eleanor Burns. She was like that too. The American didn't look like much at first sight; a rather plain beauty in Adele's standards, and too quiet to think much of her in a first encounter. Yet, someone whose eyes weren't as silent and absent as her confidence, someone who spoke without words. Just like the desert, which so many secrets and mysteries hid within its sands. Adele was actually intrigued by her story. She spoke bettter than most of the Cowbell Troop, and she said that she had a job too. What could it be...? Probably nothing that involved customer services, given Miss Burns' shy nature. She had mentioned that her job had earned her a lot of critiques. Something related to art perhaps? A painter or a novelist? She stroke Adele like a novelist. Some other moment she would ask her, but she didn't feel like it right now. Her legs were sore from all the time they had been riding, and she was still tired.

She stretched her back and glanced over Miss Burns' shoulder, given the little height difference. At the front she caught glimpse of where the rest of the Americans and the guide rode. They had halted for a second, looking at something in the ground before resuming the march. She sighed. After a minute, both women glanced at the ground, towards where the men had been staring at. Almost as if they had rehearsed it, the two women looked up to each other at the same time; none knew whether to be nervous or —sort of— relieved. Part of the legend was true then; people had _died_ trying to find the way to Hamunaptra. And Adele would make sure she wouldn't end up as part of the legend.

* * *

A loud bray at the back of the caravan reached their ears, making the three Americans and the Bulgarian stop their argument and glance behind them. Daniels snorted in disbelief. That stuck up bastard was fighting with his donkey, still holding in one hand his open umbrella and pulling with the other at the reins, which the animal was tugging. Beni snorted too. "That your Egyptologist?"

"What's he doing?" Asked Burns.

Henderson chuckled. "Leave it to me." With that, he turned his white horse around and kicked its sides soflty, setting it into a small gallop. As he went down the line, he couldn't help but wink at Nellie as he passed by her horse's side. The cowboy slowed his horse up when he finally reached them. The British doctor was panting and mumbling annoyed lines such as _"Come on, you blasted creature!"_ He was furiously sweating and his face was red, his cheeks puffed and lips pursed. Henderson chuckled.

"Need a hand, doc?" Dr. Chamberlain looked up to the American, releasing another annoyed scoff.

"I'm very capable of handling an ass, Mr. Henderson." He snapped, pulling again at the reins. He was a famed Egyptologist, and a beast with no capacity to reasoning whatsoever wouldn't make him look like a fool. "No animal is smarter than me." He added, voicing his thoughts and earning another chuckle from Henderson.

"Clearly." The blonde American said, making sure his sarcasm was so obvious and insolent that it would be impossible to go unnoticed by the other sweating man. He wondered why the Egyptologist was so keen on wearing all those useless clothes. The donkey let out another bray as he tugged at the reins once more and turned its head to the right, moving its whole body in the process. Dr. Chamberlain kicked it frustrated on the sides while pulling the reins to the left. His monocle had fallen off, and he had his lips pursed once more. "Ya doin' it wrong."

Dr. Chamberlain let out another breath as he looked up to the cowboy. "What do you suggest, then?"

Henderson grinned and moved his horse to the side, placing it at the donkey's right. Snatching the reins from the Egyptologist, he bend down to pat the smaller animal on the neck while making his horse move gradually, guiding the donkey back in the right direction. The caravan had advanced, but wasn't too far away. He stretched up and clicked his tongue, urging both animals to go forward. He looked back to Dr. Chamberlain with a triumphant grin.

The British man looked at him over his shoulder —if that was possible— as he placed the monocle on his right eye; afterwards, he looked back to the front with his nose wrinkled and his chin as high as he could manage. Howard Henderson, not being one to give up so easily, decided to push his luck with the doctor a little further. "C'mon, doc. Thought ya Brits are always proper."

Dr. Chamberlain rolled his eyes, he _actually_ rolled his eyes in annoyance before taking a deep breath as if not to snap at his employer. Because that uncultured Yank _was_ his employer this time, along with his other two friends. "Your assistance, even if unwanted and needless, is appreciated, Mr. Henderson." The American chuckled.

"There, not so difficult, uh?" Dr. Chamberlain didn't bother to grace him with an answer. They kept advancing silently until the two reached the back of the caravan. The cowboy gazed at the front, lost in thought. Actually quite suspicious of the silent rider, Dr. Chamberlain tried to steal a glance at the man himself from the corner of his eye, of course, making sure the American didn't notice. Why was he still with him instead of his peers? And more important, why was he so quiet? Suddenly, the blonde man faced him with a grin, making the doctor immediately direct his glance back to the front. "Hey, doc."

Henderson wasn't sure, but he could swear one of the Brit's eyes had twitched. "Yes, Mr. Henderson?"

"Why don't ya tell me about whose riches are we gonna dig up, hmm?" Dr. Chamberlain looked at him, taken aback and with a raised eyebrow.

"Seti I's family and dynasty?" Henderson nodded.

"Yeah, that one."

"Why would you care about Egyptology?"

"Ah, doc, throw me a bone here! Can't a man get to know his history?"

Dr. Chamberlain looked at him from head to toe, still suspicious and with his eyebrow raised. Finally, he sighed and began to explain the pharaoh's life, just like he had done before in universities and museums. However, the doctor was unaware of the permanent smirk in Henderson's face.

* * *

In the night, there were always snores. One particularly loud woke Adele up, startling her. A bit disorientated, she gaze at her surroundings before remembering that she was on Miss Burns' horse. She had been sleeping for a couple of hours leaning against said woman's back, just like the American woman had been resting against her chest; the balance was perfect so none of them had moved enough to fall from the horse. Adele leaned a little towards the right, seeing that Miss Burns' hands were barely holding the reins. Afraid that they would fall, she snaked her arms around Eleanor's waist and as gently as she could without seeing, took hold of the reins, just in case the horse would get out of the road. All the horses seemed to be following each other, though. Good. The halt they had made, even if brief, had been good enough to allow both animals and humans take a little nap so they would be able to keep their journey now. She wondered about Evy and Jonathan. Were they okay? They'd better be. Were they on their way too? She hoped so. She looked around once more, blocking the sounds of the snores. The power of the night was overwhelming. She thanked the decrease of temperatures.

"Ya should be restin'." A male's voice said, scaring her. She looked at her left. Although the blonde cowboy had spoken quietly, trying not to wake Miss Burns up, Adele hadn't expected him to suddenly be by their side, and awake too.

"Do you deliberately sneak up on women, Mr. Henderson?" She half whispered, half shriek.

"Just the auburn haired ones with bad mood." She didn't need to look, she knew the man was probably smirking. " _Oh, you..."_

"If that's so, you should be more careful. They're the ones with the worst temper too."

He shrugged. "I like challenges."

She scoffed. "Indeed."

A few moments passed before he continued the conversation. "Why so judgemental?"

Adele kept silent for a minute before responding. "First impressions matter, Mr. Henderson. That's how I was taught."

This time he scoffed. "Weren't ya taught never judge a book by its cover?" She looked at him, who was looking at the front. The moon was bright enough to make out most of his face's features.

"What are you implying exactly, then?"

"I'm implyin' maybe I'm better than ya think. Not the best, but better."

She chuckled wryly. "So you're saying you aren't the type for going for fast girls?"

He shrugged once more. "Depends on the girl." He mirrored her, directly looking at her eyes, and Adele actually felt a tingle in her wrists. She broke their gaze.

"After how contemptuous I've been with you, why are you still so keen on knowing me?"

"I told ya, I like challenges." He said as if that was the answer to everything. "Ya got a boring husband back somewhere?"

She clenched her jaw. "No."

"Then that's all I need to know." She looked at him, her eyes sharp.

"No, it's most definitely not. You need to know the person, for a start."

"How can I do so if the person don't let me?" He gazed back, unfazed. _"Oh, he's good..."_ Adele started to play with the ring in her middle right finger. Henderson noticed, but didn't comment on it.

"How much exactly you want to know me, Mr. Henderson?"

He half smiled, a little grimly. "As much as ya let me."

She looked back to the front. "What could we posssibly talk about as common interest, for example?"

His smile turned into a grin. "What 'bout Egypt?"

Adele quickly glanced back at him. "You know Ancient Egypt history?" She asked in disbelief.

"Hey, I did my homework before coming 'ere." She raised an eyebrow, not believing a word.

"Very well then. Who's city are you going to steal?" She asked in her best scholar voice.

"Seti I's. Although it wasn't only his, shared it with another fellas."

"And who was Seti I?"

"A pharaoh."

"Bravo..."

"Ya didn't let me finish."

"Then go on."

"He ruled as second of the nineteenth dynasty. After some religious reform, he an' daddy, Ramssess I, tried to re-establish order in the kingdom and reaffirm Egypt's power over Canaan and Syria. His military victories are in some temple in Karnak. He was king for a decade, an' although his predecessors were the ones that built Hamunaptra, he was the richest chunk to hide his gold down there." The blonde man said, "Don't really understand how his son is more famous, he didn't become as rich as his father." He added, more to himself. He fully smirked upon seeing Miss Jennings' pretty mouth ajar. "Well?"

She closed her mouth and averted her eyes from him. "That was... correct." He straightened his shoulders, proud. "Although you could improve your oral expression."

He almost voiced the first joke of many that had appeared in his mind, but quickly restricted himself. He had made advance with Miss Jennings, and wasn't going to willingly screw it up so soon. They looked at each other, and he could swear that he caught sight of the ghost of a smile in the Brit's visage. They both looked back to the horizon, a content silence formed upon them. Henderson thanked it way more than his companion. The man was glad that she hadn't asked anything else; he had already told her all that he remembered from Dr. Chamberlain's lesson.

* * *

It was almost dawn when they arrived there. Eleanor couldn't believe it. They had _finally_ arrived! ... And there was nothing. No ruins, no temples, nothing. Just more desert. She took a deep breath. _"Adversity is the first path to truth,"_ she told herself. Mr Gabor slowed his camel, the rest of the party following suit. She moved beside her brother and Henderson, earning the first's attention. She didn't want to repeat one of Miss Jennings and Daniels' fights.

"How you feeling?" Asked her Bernie.

She stretched a little her back, trying not to bother Miss Jennings behind her. "Good enough, I guess. You?"

"Same as you," He asnwered with a little smile, which his sister returned. He turned to the Brit woman, who had silently followed their exchange. "How are you Miss Jennings?"

"In all honesty, Mr. Burns, I've been better." She said softly. They all focused their attention towards the group of four riders that were arriving, stopping nearly at the same spot. "Evy...!" Adele exclaimed, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank God..." she whispered to herself. They all halted.

"Good morning, my friend." Mr. Gabor greeted who seemed to be the leader of the other party. Eleanor studied him; tall, fair and with an air of confidence. He didn't answer. Both groups stood still, until Dave broke the silence.

"What the hell we doing?"

"Patience, my good barat'm, patience." Mr. Gabor told her friend. She briefly wondered what _"barat'm"_ meant. Was it an insult? Or just a synonim of friend? Adele glared at the American's guide when he accepted Mr. Daniels' offer to help them win the bet, so to speak. He'd better not hurt the Carnahans.

The sun began to rise, so big and bright, entracing them. And just as it had almost completely risen, something in the horizon began to materialize. Eleanor had to blink several times. At first she thought it was another mirage; yesterday she thought she had seen a terracotta statue in the middle of the Sahara and an oasis in another time, but after a few seconds both had disappeared. But this time it didn't matter how many times she rubbed her eyes or blinked; as the sun gained height, the ruins she had been waiting for appeared in the distance, reflecting the golden sunrises. "There it is..." she whispered.

" _It's_ real..." Eleanor heard the Brit archaeologist whisper. Suddenly, a yell awoke both from their trance, and she only caught sight of both guides and her brother and friends already riding like mad towards the city. "Miss Burns..." Adele warned. But the American woman didn't waste time either. Throwing a small battle cry, Eleanor Burns forgot that she wasn't the only one riding the stallion and kicked her heels in her horse's sides, feeling at once Miss Jennings' arms around her, almost choking her as she squeezed her middle. The stallion neighed while gaining more and more speed. She overtook her brother and Dave, then the two men that were with Adele's team. It was the other woman, Evy, Henderson and both guides in front of her. Feeling the need to keep going, she urged her horse faster. The animal complied. She passed Henderson, but didn't quite reached none of the camels. Those animals were more used to riding the desert than horses, and it didn't help that they were a little faster either. Nevertheless, she kept going. On and on. Eleanor discovered that she wanted to win that bet, she wanted to be the first to set foot inside Hamunaptra; just the thought made her feel confident, someone strong and independant, like a real adventurer. She passed Mr. Gabor's camel, which had slowed down after his rider was thrown off it, and she reached the other guide's camel, but the one with Miss Jennings' friend had advantage. She kicked her horse again, noticing for the first time that she had been smiling during the whole race. Her horse advanced a little, but not enough to reach the last camel. Indeed, after a moment, she heard the woman yelling excitedly as she crossed the City's gates. She and the other guide were next, at the same time. Despite the little disappointment of being second, Eleanor slowed her horse up until they stopped. She bent down and stroke its black, sweating neck affectionately.

"There, boy. You were amazing." She told the stallion, still with a smile. She patted him, then looked around with glee. They had made it. The City of the Dead, Hamunaptra. And all for them. For the first time since she knew of her brother's plan to come, Eleanor felt it: hope.

* * *

 **A.N:/ Sorry for the delay, but due to family reasons and other stuff it's been impossible for me to update sooner. Anyway, even if much shorter than the average chapters, I hope you enjoy this one too! We're finally in the City! :) I had to cut it here because, otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to update sooner. Thank you everybody who has read, faved, followed and reviewed ^^**

 **I must warn you, though, I won't be able to update next chapter until March or so; life is just like that.**

 **~Se acerca el invierno**


	7. VI The Shadow's Warning

**_VI. The Shadows' Warning_**

Adele's breath hadn't slowed down even after Miss Burns had made her stallion stop. She looked down; her arms still were firmly wrasping the American's middle. As if untangling two ropes, she finally let go and got off the horse, her knees almost giving in the weight of her body. She could already feel the bruises in her thighs caused by the saddle's leather. She gazed back to Eleanor, who was watching her, and nodded. "Thank you, for everything."

Miss Burns smiled. "You're welcome." Slowly, she started to walk away.

 _"Bloody beast..."_ She wasn't sure of what she had been expecting while reading about Hamunaptra, but so far, reality had surpassed her most hare-brained expectations. Not visually, that's it. She could discerned only the temple and tomb's pylon alongside some columns and, if her eyes weren't betraying her, a statue of Anubis half-buried. His jackal head and his torso were visible, whereas the rest of his body disappeared in the sand. The dromos was missing, though. Yet, it was the athmosphere what made her shiver, even with a weather that could match Hell's and a temperature above 40 degrees. Mr. O'Connell was right, there was something off about this place. Mentally shaking herself, she continued her way. Her steps guided her towards Evy's camel, now laid on the ground so his rider could get off. Evelyn smiled broadly.

"Adele!" Her colleague threw her arms around her and, smiling to herself, she returned the hug. Of course, Evelyn would be too excited to feel her unease. "What happened to you? Oh, I swear, none of us knew what to do...!" Adele made room between them so she could look at the other woman's face.

"Evelyn, I'm fine, that's what matters, alright?" She told the older woman. "Let's just... forget, about the whole boat incident."

Miss Carnahan frowned. "But..."

"Evy." She cut in, sharply. "Please." Evelyn frowned before nodding. The sound of another camel's bellow interrupt their little reunion.

"Addie!" The adressed woman looked at her right, towards the way the cheerful male's voice had come and the man himself, perched atop the animal. "Oh, I'm so thrilled to see you made it!" Mr. Carnahan exclaimed while moving the reins around. "Seriously...! Ah, wait a second." Jonathan started to click his tongue and make noises. "C'mon, stinky, cooperate with me here." He told the camel. As if understanding him, the animal bellowed once more louder this time, nevertheless getting down too. "Thank you."

Mr. Carnahan threw his right leg over the saddle and, after landing a little clumsily on the ground, he started to walk towards them, smiling. "By the way, is that your friend from the port?" He whistled. "My, that's a very nice mount she got there, and fast! My bets are a thoroughbred, look at those..." _SLAP!_ Jonathan grunted, holding his left cheek. He looked back to Adele. "What was that for?!"

Adele had separated from Evelyn right after she had seen Jonathan, not remembering her own words. The sound of her palm smacking her idiot of a friend was way too satisfying to contain her smirk. " _That_ was for pushing me over the gunwale."

"So?" Mr. Carnahan asked, confused.

"I can't swim, you bloody sap!" Adele cried out, punching his shoulder. Mr Carnahan's facial expressions changed from confounded to that of someone who just made a great realization.

"Oh..."

"What?" Evelyn exclaimed herself. "What were you thinking, Jonathan?" She asked.

"I didn't know!" For once in her life, Adele allowed herself to forget all etiquette she ever learnt and rolled her eyes. After a few minutes of arguing banter between the Carnahan siblings, Jonathan turned back to her. "Hold on! If you can't swim, how did you...?" Adele didn't answer, simply looked over her shoulder, then back to them with her eyebrow perfectly arched.

The Carnahans followed her gaze, coming across Miss Burns and her brother. "...That's why I liked her." Jonathan added, breaking the silence and earning another glare from both Brit women.

* * *

"You!" Daniels called to half of their workers, "Set up the tents." He turned to the other half. "The rest of you! With Henderson and Dr. Chamberlain." Immediately, the men did as told, dividing the crowd. They had decided to claim the ruins nearer the City's entrance on advise of the Doc. He watched as the natives passed cloths among them, from hand to hand, scattering them all over their camp. He scanned the faces until he found Bernie walking towards one of the newly settled tents, carrying his bags. He followed him inside, pushing aside the fabric which served as a door. Nellie was already inside, putting together the mattress that would be her bed.

"Hey, Dave." Bernard said, gaining back his attention. "What's a good old bimbo like you doing in a place like this?"

Daniels saw from the corner of his eye Nellie grinning. "Caper ya. O'Connell's gonna come get his money."

Bernard fished his wallet out of his jacket's pocket and opened it, his skilled fingers running over the bills. He was the more trustworthy when it came to money. Suddenly, he frowned and gazed back to him. "How much was it?"

"Five damn hundred," Daniels answered bitterly, making his friend's frown deeper. Eleanor didn't dare to tease him about the bet.

"I only got four here."

"Ya kidding?" Asked the other American, striding up to his taller friend.

"I don't kid with our bucks." Answered Burns with all seriousness. Daniels smacked his lips, irritated, before asking again.

"You sure you counted it right?"

"I'm an _accountant_ , Dave."

He paced the tent, looking at the ground. Then, an idea popped into his head. He glanced at Bernie. "Ya think Doc would mind if we spared some of his cash?"

Bernard frowned again. "Uh, probably..."

"Too bad." Daniels answered him, walking out of the tent. Burns sighed as he adjusted his spectacles, following his friend.

"You can't be serious, Bernie..." Eleanor said, getting to her feet.

"Trust me, it's better if I go with him. We both know he ain't exactly Mr. Subtle." Her brother said before exiting their tent. She sighed, knowing he was right in that. Well. She shook her head as she decided to set Bernie's mattress as well. When she was done, the American took a couple of steps back and looked around; she felt a déja-vu from the moment she and Miss Jennings had shared Faaria's tent after the boat's ambush. As an improvised floor, their workers had put around the tent some carpets to protect them from the hot sand and any scorpions, snakes and whatever else that could pop from beneath it. They only had both of their beds and, separating them, a wooden box placed upside down that served as a small table. Resting on it, there was an oil lamp... currently turned off, clearly. Her two bags were on her mattress whereas Bernie's were on the carpets, beside his bed. Only that stupid tool kit laid on his mattress.

She turned around, ready to walk out, when an unexpected visitor made her release a small shriek and her heart miss a beat. With a hand above her chest, she squinted her eyes. A little boy, around ten or so, stood by the tent's entrance, with his brown eyes open wide, as if he had been caught in the middle of a mischief. Something was familiar about him. "What are you doing here?" She asked.

The boy closed his ajar mouth to swallow before speaking. "Ahmed."

Eleanor frowned more. "What?"

"Ahmed!" He repeated, pointing at his chest while moving his head to emphasize the name. Suddenly, Eleanor's mind recalled the memory. _"That's right! The lad from the boat..."_

She took a few steps towards him. "Why are you here?" She asked him; it was Ahmed's turn to frown, making Eleanor sigh. "You don't understand my language, do you?" Again, he just frowned.

She took a deep breath, then walked out of the tent. Eleanor stopped her march to look behind her. The boy hadn't moved from his spot, watching her. She held out her hand as she motioned him with her head, making some of her black locks fall partially onto her face. "Come." She repeated the head movement while, with her other hand, moved her hair from her face. Finally the boy walked up to her, so she resumed her way. Only a glance behind her shoulder was enough to let her know Ahmed was following her skirts closely.

* * *

Henderson had always razzed Burns for his need of wearing glasses; even so, the man still had a scary accurate aim, but to him, it was fun to try to get on his nerves. He, on the other hand, had a good eyesight since he was born, thankfully. That's why he was able to spot her with so much distance separating them. She was talking with the other broad, the sister of that funny egg, John Carnahan, while both supported something shiny. He took off his hat and, after a moment, turned back to Dr. Chamberlain, who -still under his umbrella- was having the time of his life bossing around. Both men stood on the lintel of what, according to the Brit's judgement, was one of the entrance of the tombs. It was blocked by countless rocks, however, stones that were being removed by their diggers. "Do they know something we don't?" He asked the man.

Dr. Chamberlain turned to him, wearing an air of confidence Henderson couldn't remember to have seen it in him before. "They're led by two women. What does a woman know?" Henderson gave him a grim, ironic smirk that seemed to satisfy the doctor, since he turned around to keep inspecting the natives' work. Meanwhile, he turned back to scrutinize the other camp. _"What don't know that woman?"_ Henderson thought to himself.

"Dr. Chamberlain!" A feminine voice caused him to look down. Nellie was circling the gateway, with a kid following her trail.

He smirked, putting back his cowboy hat on his head. "When did ya decide to adopt, Nellie?"

The two crossed the dune that served as a walkway and came to stand in front of them. "Ha, ha. You slay me, Howard."

 _"Ah, Miss Sarcasm is still in there..."_ He thought amused.

"Where did that child come from?" Asked Dr. Chamberlain. Eleanor directed her blue gaze towards him.

"I have no idea. I met with him once in the boat before we were raid, but that's it. He doesn't speak a word of English, so I thought you could be his interpreter." Eleanor said hesitantly. She was sure the idea wouldn't exactly be appealing to the uptight British man.

Said man scoffed, confirming her thoughts. "I was hired to advise and provide Egyptian knowledge, Miss Burns, not to babysit a pipsqueak who, by the looks of it, surely is just another pickpocket."

She took a deep breath. "Please, I just need you to translate a few questions and his answers, doctor. It won't take long, and we can't just abandon him."

"Women..." Dr. Chamberlain murmured to himself while releasing an annoyed sigh. Eleanor bit her tongue as well, trying to contain herself.

"I already know his name is Ahmed, ask him what is he doing here." She stated. Dr. Chamberlain did so, and Ahmed answered instantly.

"He says that he remembers you were disposed to help him out at the boat, so he followed you." The man translated, sounding bored.

Eleanor frowned. How could this boy cross the Sahara and reach Hamunaptra without a mount? He asked Dr. Chamberlain to translate her thoughts. "He robbed a horse to follow us."

 _"Just to see me...?"_ She couldn't help but wonder quizzically. She twisted one of her inked locks before continuing the conversation.

"Ask him what he expects now."

"He wishes to work for us, particularly for you." Eleanor frowned. Upon seeing the woman's expression, Ahmed rushed to say something else. Eleanor looked from him to Dr. Chamberlain, who translated the boy's petitions. Henderson watched the three of them silently. "He said that he can cook and clean." Eleanor ran her hand through her mane, unsure. "If you want my advise, Miss Burns," Dr. chamberlain spoke again. "We already have enough issues. He will only be another wage to pay, even if more limited, and an extra mouth to feed."

Eleanor paced a little over the lintel. She looked to Henderson, but he kept silent, watching her. A single look told her that he was divided as well; what the doctor had said was true, but the two of them knew the struggles of life, probably better than that pompous ass. She turned back, trying to avoid glancing at Ahmed. Otherwise, she would agree instantly. "Ask him how old is he, and if he has any family."

She watched both conversing before the Brit faced her once more. "He says he's twelve, and that he has no family alive." Dr. Chamberlain translated, "Of course..." He added to himself wryly.

After what felt like hours, she finally sighed, earning a glare from the doctor. Both he and Henderson knew what that meant. "Tell him that he can stay but, that so far, we can only pay him with food, clothes and a sleeping place." Dr. Chamberlain inhaled deeply. "Also, tell him that he must learn a basis of English so we can understand him."

Dr. Chamberlain puffed his cheeks. "Miss Burns..."

"Ya heard the lady, Doc," Said Henderson. "C'mon, ya're gonna be paid anyhow." She smiled gratefully at her friend. The other man obeyed, and right after Ahmed threw himself at her leg, as if thanking her. Uncomfortable, she separated him from her as gently as she could.

She glanced back at Dr. Chamberlain. "Thank you." She thought about asking him to write a list of words and phrases in both, Arabic and English, but decide against it. She turned to Henderson, "See you later." He gave her a smile.

That said, they parted ways. Eleanor walked back to her tent, Ahmed following close behind. She was about to take hold of the entrance's cloth, when a tall man emerged from it, making her take a step back. He was handsome, part of Miss Jennings' team, and was the one who had thrown off Mr. Gabor from his camel during the ride. She almost blushed. Why was he in her tent? And what was his name...?

"What were you doing there, Mr...?" The quivering of her heart increased in anticipation.

"O'Connell." He provided smoothly. She opened her mouth to say something else, when she catched glimpse of what one of his tanned hands was holding behind his back.

"That's ours..." She stated with a small voice.

He feigned a frown. "What?"

She scowled, abandoning her shy nature. "The tool kit you're holding behind your back, Mr. O'Connell." She said, looking at his face. She swallowed, immediately averting her eyes, fixing them back to Bernie's kit. "Give it back, please."

Mr. O'Connell faked a smile. "I have no clue what you're talkin' about, lady. If you excuse me..." He began to walk away, but Eleanor surprised both of them by stepping in his path.

"My brother, Mr. Burns, gifted me that kit." She swallowed again, extending her hand towards him. "Please..." She asked with a small voice. She forced herself to not be intimidated and look at his eyes. He had blue eyes too, a shade a bit lighter than her own. After some seconds passed, the man allowed his impassive mask to crack ever so slightly, looking a bit guilty. He handed her the tool kit and, without a word, walked away. Eleanor looked down at it, wrasping the leather firmly and taking a deep breath. _"Foolish girl."_ Eleanor thought to herself. What was she expecting, love at first sight? Gazing at the Egyptian ruins surrounding her, she exhaled. Seemed like Egypt was doing her good, after all.

* * *

"Oi! Come on, let's go!" Henderson shouted. They were about to enter the tomb; on one hand, Eleanor was excited beyond words, but on the other, fear began to show up in her body too. Dave and her brother came to either of her sides.

"If you feel unwell just tell us," Bernie told her with a soothing voice. She knew she was his most soft spot, along with Lizzie.

"He's right," Added Daniels. "Or ya can always wait 'ere for us." She knew he didn't really mean to upset her, but Eleanor wasn't stupid enough to ignore that all of them, especially Dave and Howard, were anxious to set feet inside the dark ruins. Of course, they cared for her well-being, nevertheless they wanted as few burdens as possible. Her pride began to scream, so she answered its call.

"I'll be fine." Dave nodded, then moved to the front whereas Bernard remained by her side. Ahmed had been forbidden to go into the ruins. Instead, she asked him to unpack her clothes and books while she was gone... several feet underground... Oh, God. _"Suck it up, Burns."_ She ordered herself mentally.

And so, they got into the darkness.

The workers carried shovels, hammers and any other implements they could need down there; Dr. Chamberlain led the way. They twisted the corners of the corridors, first to the right, then right again, then left... _"This place a trap, a labyrinth."_ Then again, wasn't that the idea? To keep treasure hunters like them away. A noise above them made them all jump in surprise. Everybody aimed towards the ceiling, looking frantically around. Eventually, the noise disappeared.

"The hell was that?" Asked Henderson.

"Bugs, probably. Scarabs by the sound of it." Answered Dr. Chamberlain, still looking wary around him. Nobody said anything else, so they resumed their way.

Several of them were carrying lighted torches while some took lanterns, her brother one of them, making Eleanor even more uneasey. The shadows that the light and the fire casted on the tomb's walls, in which relieves had been carved in an effort to decorate them, seemed to take will of their own. She discerned a hunting scene where a figure, bigger than the rest -presumably the pharaoh, or some deity-, threw a spear against an enraged lion. The following scene showed the lion dead, bleeding with the spear piercing his head. She looked away. Apparently no one dared to break the imposing silence, at least just yet. Finally, they reached a bigger room. In front of them, Eleanor saw a large rectangular thing made of black stones. The sufarce seemed to have been polished and engraved with a similar motif that she couldn't quite discern. She looked over the group; most workers appeared reluctanct, contrasting with Dr. Chamberlain's satisfied expression. "Gentlemen, we found our first digging area."

Suddenly, they heard muffled noises coming from the other side of the... thing. The workers pushed themselves against the wall perpendicular to the... coffin? Eleanor had no clue of what to call the thing. Meanwhile, the six of them -including Mr. Gabor and the doctor-, pushed their back against the black stones. Silently, Bernie handed her a smaller revolver which she took. They waited a moment, then, all of them stood out of their barricade, their arms stretched out ready to fire. She breathed in relief at the sight before her. All of them lowered their guns.

"Scared the shit out of us, O'Connell," Said Henderson.

"Likewise." Replied the American, lowering his arms too. Eleanor saw Miss Jennings standing beside her friend, the other woman whose name she couldn't remember right now. None of the two had a gun, unlike her. The other British woman then spoke up.

"Well, have a nice day, gentlemen and miss," She briefly looked at her, who was standing between her brother and Dave. "We have a lot of work."

Dr. Chamberlain's head emerged, then, filling the empty space between the Burns siblings. "Push off! This is _our_ dig side."

"It's not." Said Miss Jennings.

"It's too!" Dr. Chamberlain exclaimed.

"We got here first." Said the other broad determinedly, making all of them raise again the guns, excepting Eleanor. She gazed at the different people; Mr. O'Connell, her brother, the female archaeologist, Daniels, Miss Jennings... None of them willing to back off.

"This is our statue, friend." Dave said, glaring at the other leader.

"I don't see your name written on it, pal." Retorted he. A tense moment passed among both parties that Miss Jennings decided to break.

"This is ridiculous," She said, taking a step towards them. "This place is big enough for all of us, you shouldn't need to tote a gun to make your point, gentlemen." She glared at Daniels and Henderson, with her fiercy brown eyes fixed in their revolvers. She then moved her gaze to Nellie's lowered arm and the gun she held limply. Eleanor could swear she had caught glimpse of Howard lowering both of his arms a bit.

"Perhaps ya should take yer own advices, miss." Told her Daniels.

"Indeed," Added Mr. Gabor. "Since there's only five of you, and sixteen of me, your odds are not so great, O'Connell."

 _"There's more to that statement..."_ Eleanor thought upon seeing the resentment and frustration in Mr. O'Connell's face as he took the safety off his revolver and aimed it at their guide. "I've been worse." He almost growled.

"Yeah, me too." Another man of Miss Jennings' team with British accent added.

"For goodness' sake, let's play nice, children." Said the Brit woman, making her way to the front and positioning herself between both groups. "If we're going to play together we must learn to share." She continued, looking to all of them in the first line, including Miss Burns. She gazed back to O'Connell. "There are other places to dig." She told him, placing her hand on his still raised arm. Eleanor felt a knotch in her stomach. Thankfully, it worked. The group started to left; Miss Jennings was the last to follow them, giving one last glance to both Eleanor and her blonde friend.

"God, I hate that man..." Murmured Daniels.

Eleanor swallowed before turning to Bernard and handing him the gun. He shook his head. "Better if you keep it, Nellie." She looked down at it, then back at him and nodded.

"What now?" She asked no one in particular.

"If I'm correct, Miss Burns, here," Dr. Chamberlain caressed the stone surface. "Is where the treasure lies..." He whispered, almost to tell himself that. She looked at the... sarcofagus? Skeptically.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Daniels asked.

Dr. Chamberlain turned his head to look at him. "First I need to decipher these hieroglyphics, to confirm we're at the correct location." He then looked back to the stones, moving his lips as if he was reading them. Eleanor guessed he was.

She walked near a lighted torch and took her bag, ignoring her surroundings. She crouched to the ground and opened it, inspecting the contents. Firstly, she picked her canteen and drank some water, trying to ease her nerves. She didn't want to go claustrophoic now of all times. Then, she looked through her supplies; forceps, a scalpel, various syringes... she had brought most from home, not trusting the medicine advances outside of those that she knew, the American. She even managed to get a couple of samples of penicillin and liquid ethyl ether. She didn't really like to admit it, but James surely had contacts in the medicine world. Everything was in place. Good. She took another swing of water and poured a little on her nape.

She didn't know how much time had passed when Dr. Chamberlain finally cried out for them. "It's here! It's here, gentlemen..." He said, taking some steps back.

Henderson grinned and picked up a crowbar. "Let's get us some treasure!" He forcefully put it in between a fissure of the stone the other man had indicated.

"Careful!" Dr. Chamberlain yelled while gripping the crowbar Howard was about to use as lever. "Seti was no fool. I think perhaps we should let the diggers open it." Her brother walked up to him.

"I think we should listen to the good doctor, Henderson." Agreed Bernard.

Henderson looked at Burns, then unclasped the crowbar. "Yeah, sure." He lifted his arm in a _'go ahead'_ gesture. "Let them open it." He handed the tool to one of the men as three of them approached the stones. Dr. Chamberlain kept giving them orders in their native tongue while the four of them, along with the rest of the group, stood a few metres behind.

Unconciously, Eleanor gripped her brother's forearm as Dr. Chamberlain's yells became louder.

The stone finally dropped, followed by some gas that made all of them jump; the smell was awfull. The smoke began to disappear, but the three diggers kept yelling; they turned around, clutching their faces. Eleanor felt her bile rising up to her throat; she screamed, along with Daniels, Bernard and Howard. Pretty much all of them. The diggers' skin was covered with burns and blisters all over their faces and arms. Breaking apart from the group, Eleanor rushed over one of them and placed her hands in his back, where the gas hadn't affected the clothes or the skin. She turned to a shocked Dr. Chamberlian, whose mouth was hanging open. "Tell them to guide them back to the surface like I'm doing! They can only touch their backs." She commanded. The man kept unresponsive, too shocked. "Now!" She yelled, finally snapping him out of it.

Dr. Chamberlain translated her message and, immediately, a couple of their workers put their hands on their peers' back, with the doctor guiding them back to the surface.

The hurt diggers kept crying and shouting. "Tell them they'll live, I'll treat their injuries!" The Brit did so, guiding the whole group out of the tomb. Once outside, Eleanor moved to one of the largest tents, probably the doctor's or one of her friends'. Most people began to deploy, too sensitive to stay and watch; nevermind, Eleanor would have kicked them out had they decided to stay. "Doctor, I need you to stay and translate for me. I need men to help them change from clothes; they can't touch the front part of them, is where that kind of acid has affected the fabric; we'll have to burn the clothes. The injured will have to wear only pants too, so I can get a good look at the damage. And, please! Ask them to lay down on their backs" She said without looking up, already setting on a high table all of her supplies. She first prepared the ether and the syringes; those would be the first she'd have to use. Then she washed her hands. Once Dr. Chamberlain told her the patients were ready, she turned around, filling a syringe with ether. She walked to the first digger and, like she had done so many times at the hospital, she pierced the arm's skin. Then she began to provide the ether until the patient had relaxed almost to the point of losing conciousness. "Someone bring me another syringe, please." She asked, leaving the one already used beside the digger. She'd have to disassemble and sanitize it later, so it could be used again.

A worker held the syringe she had asked for in front of her, just taking it with his thumb and index finger. She took it, and repeated the procedure until the three diggers were properly anesthetized. Then she proceeded to clean their burns, break their blisters so the pus wouldn't create later an infection and clean all of the injuries. Afterwards, she applied a sort of plasticine that would help with the pain of the burns, then she began to bandage their arms, shoulders, torsos and necks. Their faces were the most complicated part; they'd hardly be able to open their eyelids, and she couldn't be sure if they had lost their eyesight, at least partially. She opted for bandanging them as well, leaving a space for their mouths and eyes. She finally straightened her back and shoulders, hearing her bones popping into place. Eleanor took the three used syringes. She faced the people in the room. "They will wake in an hour or so, someone should stay with them until then. Once they're awake I need to speak with them and see how they feel." She told Dr. Chamberlain, her voice going back to her usual tone, instead of the commanding one she had used while working. Dr. Chamberlain nodded, then told the two other diggers what she had said. They nodded and settled themselves on the floor, waiting and whispering between them. Once she had taken all of her stuff, she exited the tent. Outside, Eleanor saw Bernie, Daniels, Henderson and Ahmed waiting for her. Henderson was the first to approach her.

"How are they?" She sighed.

"Some nasty burns that will leave scars, but they'll survive." He swallowed thickly and nodded slowly. She frowned a little, then cupped his cheek with her hand. He took a deep breath before gently taking her wrist and moving her arm from him. Henderson gave her hand a squeeze, then left wordlessly. She sighed again, watching her friend's back.

"What was that thing?" Asked Daniels quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself. She approached him a little.

"My guess is acid, for the smell I'd say salt acid." She asnwered him softly. He briefly glanced at her, then back to the tent before running a hand over his dark hair.

"I need a fucking cigarette..." Eleanor gave his shoulder a squeeze. After nodding to both her and Burns, he walked away too.

She strode up to Bernie who, without a single word, wrapped her in a hug. She closed her eyes, allowing her weight to rest on his brother's chest. God, she felt so tired now... "You okay, Nellie?" He asked gently. She just nodded, still pressed against him. Finally, she stepped back and the three of them, including Ahmed, walked to the siblings tent.

Meanwhile, the sun was beginning to set.

* * *

When Adele had caught sight of him, she was convinced that he would've at least looked back to her. But, then, Howard Henderson had ignored her and kept on his way, oblivious to the world. She frowned; something had happened. She looked over her shoulder, Evy was already on the surface with Mr. O'Connell, who was helping Jonathan out of the hole they used to get in and out of the ruins. She looked back towards where she had seen the cowboy storm off, unconciously playing with her mother's ring on her right finger. Then, against her better judgement, she followed his trail. Adele found him alone, sitting on a column that had fallen horizontally on the sand. Slowly, she approached him. He looked once at her when she had come within his eyesight, but that was it. Tentatively, she sat down near him, still keeping her distance. "Mr. Henderson?"

After a minute of silence, she turned her gaze to the front. The sunset was beautiful, she had to admit. "Did ya hear it?" He asked all of sudden. She turned back to him, frowning.

"Hear what?"

He chuckled dryly, without any amusement. "The damn screams... I swear they was so loud I thought ya and your friends had heard too." She kept silent, watching him. Eventually, he elaborated. "Three a' our diggers almost melted today. Some acid in a... compartment, that they opened." He took a very deep breath. "Ya know the best bit?" He asked rhetorically. "I was the dumbass about to open it before I was stopped..."

Adele gazed intently at his face, her mouth ajar. Why was he telling her, of all people? She couldn't help but wonder, annoyed. It was her turn to swallow, trying to untangle the knot that had appeared in her throat. More importantly, why was she so annoyed after knowing he could have died? Bloody idiot... "Next time think before acting, Mr. Henderson. Then no one will have to mourn you..." She said, earning another dry chuckle.

"Sounds logical..." He murmured wryly. She gave a small chuckle now, then reached for his shoulder before placing there her hand. He looked at her, not bothering to hide his surprise. She ignored him, watching the sunset. Finally, he faced the horizon too.

After a few minutes, darkness ruled again in Hamunaptra.

* * *

Eleanor entered her tent to find her brother with his suspenders falling at either side of his hips and his jaw and cheeks covered in foam, standing in front of a mirror. She couldn't help but chuckle. "Has Lizzie already seen you like this?" She asked, going over her bed and sinking down on it. He moved his head to look at her.

"She'll have to! One day..." He answered, then resumed his shaving.

She kept grinning. "Pray that moment comes once you have already walked the aisle." He faked a mocking laugh, not looking away from the mirror. She glanced around. "Where's Ahmed?"

"Who?" She rolled her eyes.

"The boy!"

He shrugged, "Haven't seen him in a while." She was about to say something else when she heard a riot. Bernard had frozen too, cocking his head to the side. "You hear that?" She nodded, standing to her feet. He left the razor and took out his gun; Eleanor reached for hers and both stepped outside their tent. _"God, not again."_ Eleanor thought.

Horsemen dressed in the same outfits as the boat attackers were all over the City, carrying torches, guns and swords.

Their camp was being raided.

The attackers were shooting against everybody and throwing the lighted torches to the tents; one of the smallest was already burning. Some of them swung their swords, opening throats and killing remorselessly. She could smell the smoke of the fire.

"Mr. Henderson!" She heard Dr. Chamberlain yell, running as a horseman galloped after him. Upon hearing his name, Howard ran out of his tent, gun in hand. He shot Dr. Chamberlain's attacker, the body falling off the horse towards the ground. Someone touched her arm, making her jump.

"Stay inside the tent!" Bernie told her before running towards Daniels and Henderson. She didn't listen; Eleanor stood there, watching her surroundings. Then, a shot sounded too close to her, making her throw herself to the ground. One of the men passed by her side, not bothering to check if he had truly hit her. Not that she was complaining. She didn't know how long she laid there; however, she knew that the horseman aiming for his brother's back was what made her regain control of her body. She stood up and sprinted towards them.

Stopping dead in her tracks, she quickly took aim and fired. She didn't kill the man, but she wounded him, for his shot was diverted. Instead, the bullet had reached Dave's left arm. Her brother killed the man for her. Eleanor lowered her arm, breathing heavily. But then, a neigh at her side warned her that she had gained the attention of another attacker, who was riding towards her with his sword raised above his head. She aimed shakily but missed, then decided to run for her life. She turned around and began to move her legs as fast as she could manage; it felt as if she weighted more than the iron. A shoot echoed through the air, then she couldn't hear her attacker anymore. She stopped her race, looking over her shoulder; the white horse was nowhere to be seen and the man on the floor, dead. She turned back to the front and recognized her savior's back; O'Connell. However, he was now busy fighting another of the men. O'Connell jumped out of the way of the curved sword, then rolled on the floor until he stopped beside her, stretching his legs and with one hand holding something out for the attacker to see, the other arm stretched out in front of her. She swallowed. _"Dynamite."_

The man looked at the cartridge, then at them. His brown eyes, almost black, were the most intense eyes Eleanor had ever looked into. Not dropping his gaze from neither of them, the stranger lowered his weapon. Only his face was visible; Eleanor noticed the tattooes in his cheekbones. They were similar to those of one of the men she had seen attacking the boat. Were they some kind of tribe? A sect? Why were they attacking them?

"Enough!" He commanded with a thick accent. "We'll shed no more blood." He told them firmly. Then he looked at her, making her gulp. "But you must leave. Leave this place or die!" He said solemnly. Eleanor opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came. The man threw them one last glare before turning around and walking towards a rider that was holding a horse's reins. He mounted the white horse expertly, then faced them again. "You have one day."

The man, clearly the leader of the party, ordered something else in Arabic, then all of the horsemen turned around and rode into the night, disappearing into the darkness like shadows.

* * *

 **A.N/: There it is! I'm finally back! I'm sorry for my abscence, but as you all know, life tends to get in the way. During this chapter I had to make quite a bit of research in medicine during the 1920s, so I hope I got my facts right. If you see any mistake, not only concerning the medicine stuff, don't doubt to tell me and I'll fix it as soon as possible. I hope you enjoyed your reading. Thank you everyone who has read, followed, faved and reviewed! :)**

 **Now that I got my holidays I'll be able to update more often, hopefully.**

 **Until next time.**

 **~Se acerca el invierno**

* * *

 _ **Sap =**_ **Fool**

 _ **Bimbo =**_ **A tough guy**

 _ **Caper =**_ **A criminal act or robbery; to rob**

 ** _Razz_ = To make fun of**

 ** _Egg_ = A person who lives the big life**

 _ **You slay me =**_ **That's funny**


	8. VII Gut Feeling

**_VII. Gut Feeling_**

All of them stood there, frozen, resembling statues as their eyes clinged to the figures of the desert warriors, not once leaving them until they finally disappeared in the night. Eleanor took a deep breath; they were heading east. A shiver shook her whole body, and she was certain the cold wasn't its source. O'Connell spared her a brief glance, for she still was standing by his side, and Eleanor gave him a small nod in thanks. He had saved her life. He returned the nod, then walked to her other side, aiding Miss Jennings' friend. Speaking of which, the other British archaeologist was standing with her other male companion, although she had her gaze fixed on something else. Eleanor followed Adele's eyes to find they were directed towards the small group her friends and brother had formed alongside Dr. Chamberlain. Mentally, she grinned; surely Miss Jennings' wasn't worried about Daniels of all people. Daniels... Eleanor looked at him, noticing her brother was holding tightly Dave's left arm, a small trail of blood going down both men's arms.

That's right, he had been shot by Bernie's attacker! Too worried to hide her concern, Eleanor quickly strode towards them just as Dave spoke up. "That prove it! Seti's fortune gotta be under this sand!"

"Yeah, they wouldn't protect it like that if there was no treasure 'ere." Henderson added with both of his girls completely lowered. Bernie gazed at her from head to toe, assuring himself she wasn't hurt. Once she was in front of them, he let go of Daniels' arm so his sister could do her work. He walked away, hesitantly coming to stand by O'Connell, who still was protectively holding the other woman against his chest.

"You know, just, maybe for the night we could, uh, combine forces." Bernard casually suggested, with his face still half-shaved as he gazed at the unexistent horizon. O'Connell glared at him in response.

"And how! Now, that's what I call a sensible thought." The British man who accompained Miss Jennings agreed, jabbing a finger in her brother's direction. After a moment, in which O'Connell carefully scanned his surroundings, he nodded.

"Sure. We'll move our camp closer."

Sensing a slight feeling of sought relief, Eleanor focused back on Dave's wound. "You're hurt." She simply stated, trying to roll up his shirt sleeve as gently as she could.

Daniels snorted. "Just a scratch, nothin' to worry about." She frowned at the lump in his forearm, a little down the elbow. Blood kept coming from the so called _'scratch'_.

"I think the bullet didn't come out." Then, she pressed said lump with her fingertips. Successfully enough, it made Daniels hiss in pain, confirming her diagnosis.

He flinched away from her, giving her one of his glares. "The hell was that fer?"

Eleanor sighed. Out of the three musketeers that were her brother and friends, Dave was the worst patient by far. "Come, let me help." After a small scoff and another glare, he reluctantly obeyed, following Eleanor into her tent. "Sit," She indicated, gesturing to her bed. He did. "I guess you want a drink, uh?"

"Ye know me too well." He answered cheekily, making her smirk in return. She had already placed on a small table the liquid ethel, a syringe and the surgical forceps, so she walked over the tent's entrance just as Bernard did, wiping the shaving cream that had been on his face. Miraculously, the siblings didn't collide.

"Bernie, bring my patient something to drink, please." She asked him, a little wryly. He nodded, and as he ventured outside their tent again, Eleanor faced Daniels. "And, I asume you won't want the ether, will you?"

He shook his head, his forehead a little sweaty. The wound was hurting him more than he tried to let on, she knew. "Save that stuff for the next person that melts." He darkly joked, not really amused, earning him another of his friend's sighs.

"Well then," Eleanor said, walking back towards the table and her bag. "You'll need this." She handed him a rigid piece of dark leather with some little marks. He took it with his right hand frowning.

"What I'm supposed to do with this?" He asked, glaring at her while holding up the leather as if to make his point. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. _"And I haven't even started to treat him..."_

"It serves to prevent you from biting your tongue once I'm extracting the bullet." He frowned more, directing his glare to the leather with a mix of confusion and distrust. She shook her head, concentrating again in her medical supplies. "I'm the nurse, you're the patient, so shut up."

"No bossin' me around, Nellie. Ye know my temper." He calmly warned, just faintly annoyed.

"You still need to be treated, so please Dave, don't make things difficult." Before he could reply, Bernard entered the tent holding a dark bottle which, due to the smell, Eleanor guessed was whiskey; the smell was too familiar. He handed it to Dave, who immediately let go of the leather and grasped the bottle's neck firmly, taking a long swing. She briefly looked at her brother over her shoulder, then went back to her work. "Bernie, stay, just in case you need to hold him down."

"I don't need anybody to hold me!" She ignored Dave's protests, then walked to his left side while pouring some soap partially composed of polymer synthetics into a washcloth, of course, right after washing her hands in a small bowl.

"First I'm gonna clean the wound, it should sting a little." Then, she pressured the washcloth against the wound. She noticed Dave stiffening and tensing his jaw, but otherwise, her patient remained silent and still. After wiping out most of the blood, she stood and walked towards the bowl, sinking the cloth a couple of times before wringing it. She left it on the container's edge, then took the forceps. "You need to bite the leather now, I'm gonna extract the bullet."

Daniels gulped before taking another swing of whiskey, then bit hard the leather, his dark eyes never leaving her. She sat beside him, then touched lightly the sensitive skin. He growled, uncomfortable. Yes, the bullet wasn't too deep into the flesh although it surely had pierced a little of the brachioradialis. Nevertheless, the muscle damage wasn't fatal. Placing her left fingers on each side of the wound, Eleanor stretched the skin to open the wound's entrance. Then, she guided the forceps into it with her right hand, carefully making her way through the flesh. David began to groan louder, visibly in pain, the leather piece muffling the sounds. She bit her lip, then felt the bullet being touched with the tips of the forceps. Wasting no time, she pressed deeper, a little more firmly before closing the forceps. Satisfyingly, Eleanor felt them closing around the projectile. She quickly reversed the procedure, paying careful atenttion to not cause an internal injury in the forearm's muscle. Finally, the bullet and the forceps were out. Immediately afterwards, Daniels spat the leather out of his mouth.

"Fuckin' devil, bring me more drink, will ya?!" Bernard handed him again the bottle, now half empty, as his sister left beside the bowl the forceps and the bullet, on the table. Then, she took another washcloth and some needle and thread. Meanwhile, her patient took a long drink from the bottle.

"I have to stitch up the wound now, and disinfect it." She sat down again next to him. "This part isn't so painful." She added.

Just as she had announced, Eleanor cleaned again the wound and the new blood that had emerged from it, pressing firmly the cloth against the flesh. Afterwards, she left the washcloth at the head of the bed before turning back to close the wound. She had sanitized all of her supplies, so she wouldn't cause anybody an infection. Steadying her hand, she made the first stitch. After a couple of minutes, her work was almost done. She took the fresh bandages, then dressed Dave's arm.

"There you go." Eleanor said, standing up as she admired her work, satisfied. "The bullet pierced the brachioradialis, so it'll take a little more time to heal than normally. Otherwise, the ailment is barely superficial, but you should move your arm as little as possible. In a couple of days I'll check the wound again, although it probably won't get infected, I made sure I cleaned it twice."

After a couple of second submerged in silence, as she finished wringing the other washcloth, Daniels finally spoke up, looking at her with a somewhat blank expression on his paler face. "Was I supposed to understand all that? The hell is the brachio-whatever?"

Eleanor rolled her blue eyes while cleaning the blood stains from her hands. "Is the muscle that allows us to flex the forearm at the elbow,"

"The one that allows you to drink this." Her brother added joking, wearing a goofy grin aimed towards their friend while raising the almost empty bottle that Daniels had been nursing during the whole unconventional surgery session.

"Exactly, so it's absolutely vital that you keep your left arm resting for a while." She took a towel from Bernie's bed to dry her hands. "You're lucky the bullet didn't get through any tendon or reached the bone." Eleanor added, turning to both men.

"Fine," Slurred the other black-haired American. "Ya have a scarf or somethin?" He grumpily asked, making the nurse shrug in response.

"I have to take care of this," She told them, pointing towards the bowl with dirty water and her medical supplies. "Feel free to check my baggage."

With that, Eleanor threw a clean towel over her shoulder alongside her work bag, then with one hand took hold of the bowl and grasped with the other the forceps and the needle. Afterwards, she walked out of the tent, then headed towards the most isolated part of the city, still close enough to O'Connell's camp. She could discern a fire there. Turning back to the front, she stopped near some fallen stones, then kneeled and proceeded to pour out the mix of water, dirt, sand and blood that filled the bowl. She left the ceramic pan on top of the extended towel, then fished out of her bag the soap and disinfectant products to sanitize the needle, forceps and the own bowl. She was extremely picky with anything that concerned her job. As she brushed the forceps, she began to mull over the desert warriors. What were they trying to achieve by causing a carnage? Well, they surely had scared the living shit out of her. The promise of finding, or not finding, a couple of ancient coins and pottery wasn't enough to make her risk her life so carelessly. Death wasn't worth it. O'Connell had said those men weren't looking for gold, unlike them. And Eleanor could see the man's point; money is only valuable when you live in a city, or a town. And the riders looked like some desert tribe, definetely not who you'd see walking down the streets of New York or London. Then, what were they guarding so viciously here? Eleanor shook her head. She didn't want to wait and find out. Not if the price to pay was their lives. She'd speak with Bernie and the others as soon as she got back to her camp.

She gazed at her sore, red hands, realizing she had been forcefully brushing the forceps more time than it required; not that anything happened for that, just that her hands got a little irritated with the chemical products. She placed the forceps next to the bowl, then grabbed a canteen filled with water, trying to use only the tips of her index and thumb fingers. She had just poured a little on her left hand when she heard voices near her position, crouching behind a large stone which in other time surely was part of the Egyptian temple. She stopped, not understanding the language spoken. The speaker was an adult man, and she was almost certain that he was talking in Arabic. When he finished, another younger voice answered him in the same language, making her frown. The voice was familiar. Soundlessly, attempting to remain undiscovered, Eleanor left the canteen on the sand, then began to move her head up. Slowly, still kneeling, she lifted her head a little above the stone that served her as an invisibility shield, just enough to allow her to take a look at the people. Her eyes widened, making her immediately dive back behind the rock. She waited until the voices couldn't be heard anymore, then collected all of her supplies, messily throwing them into her bag after mentally counting ten seconds. Afterwards, she ran back to her camp. She needed to speak with the three amigos, _right now_.

* * *

Daniels watched Eleanor's back as she exited the tent, feeling faintly guilty as his eyes lingered a couple of seconds more on her butt. He couldn't help it, after all, Nellie was far from ugly, and as a testosterone-full man he could appreciate her chassis. Yet, he didn't really see her as nothing more than a friend, perhaps a sister. Aside that going for his best friend's sister wasn't exactly berries, not even in his book. He turned back to Burns, who finally stretched his long legs as he stood up from the bed. Daniels remained seated.

"Told you we did good allowing 'er to come."

That made him snort. "Was good when those guys almost bumped her off?" He asked sarcastically, briefly silencing his friend. True to Nellie's word, Burns was looking inside one of her cloth bags for a scarf or something Daniels could wear to keep his arm steady. "I still think she shoulda stayed in Virginia." He added after a very long silence, which he had spent observing his bandaged forearm. It still hurt like a bitch, but not as badly as when the bullet still was lodged in his muscle.

"Well, I don't!" Bernard snapped at him, annoyed, suddenly turning back to face him. After a moment, he sighed, seeming awfully tired. "Not after we got on good terms again." He looked back to the inside of his sister's bag, momentarily pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "I was lucky I convinced her of not tellin' anybody 'a our business in Texas." He gazed poitedly at him. "All of us was."

As Burns finally lifted triumphanly a brown, fine scarf that he deducted Nellie would have used as a veil for the sun, Daniels told him his thoughts. "That was one time, she was at the right place in the wrong time. Anyway, it ain't like we were carryin' a corpse to throw over a cliff." He stated. "We're not damn Al Capone..." Daniels murmured to himself.

Bernard quickly tied the scarf around his friend's neck. "The barrel full 'a Jack Daniels felt like it to me." He replied, lazily malking his way over his bed. He sat down in front of Daniels.

Dave couldn't help but snort again. "Her ol' brother was all wet of a bootlegger, so? I tell you it ain't so bad, is not as Johny Hoover himself is after our trail."

Burns sighed while taking his glasses off. He closed his strinking blue eyes, rubbing them with the back of his hand which still held his rounded spectacles. "To Nellie it is." He put back on his glasses.

"Then imagine if she found out we're still in the business. Fuckin' Prohibition can only do as much." Daniels watched with apathetic interest his friend's visage, full of worry. Despite himself, he added, "Ya still have yer job at that fancy bank and a handcuff on yer girl's finger. She wouldn't betray us, especially you."

"I know that, but I doubt she'd be happy to find out now I practically have a double life." Burns sighed. After a moment, he kept talking. "I thought about ditching, after the wedding. Lizzie and I have our plans; Nellie's got herself a daddy, that doctor, James. An' my folks aren't so low on money now, I'll keep sending 'em bucks, though. At least until my Mother recovers."

Daniels fought to control his disappointment. Sure, he could understand why Bernard wanted to settle down. A little pretty blonde wife, a secure future, all the things ordinary people dreamt of. Yet, he couldn't help but feel as if _Burns_ was the one betraying them. Burns, Henderson and himself, that's how it'd been for a long time now. But, being a good friend for once, he bit his tongue hard, just glaring at one of the carpets on the ground. When he felt he had enough control to not snap at him, Daniels continued the conversation, trying to move away from that certain topic which made him feel like a petty, selfish child not wanting to share his favorite toy. Ruth had told him something really similar before leaving him.

"What's eatin' you, Dave?" Bernard asked the same moment Daniels decided to open his mouth, making him close it.

"Nothin'." Before the other man could say anything else, he changed the subject. "Just was gonna comment how uninterested Nellie is in that doctor, despite he's been the one treating yer Mother."

That made Burns chuckle. "Yeah, not really her ideal man. He's nice to her, though. That's good, or else I'd suck the life outta him."

Daniels chuckled darkly, not helping himself. "Sure those cheaters 'a yours would send 'im to run fer cover." Burns returned the chuckle, showing his white teeth as proof of his amusement.

After a moment, he frowned. "Isn't too long since Nellie went out?" He asked him, earning a shrug. Burns stood up, taking one of his guns with him. "I'm gonna check she's alright."

* * *

When he found her, she was sitting on a stone with her bag by her feet. Burns breathed out a sigh of relief. With those crazy bedouins wandering in the dark, the last thing he wanted was having her little sister out of either his or the boys' sight. Silently, he guided his long legs towards her. She wasn't wearing a bun anymore, as she had while treating Dave; instead, her long mane moved smoothly submitted to the night's breeze. Once he stopped in front of her, Burns' eyebrows knitted together in confusion. She had spared him a single glare, then looked to her left, ignoring him. He could've sworn her blue eyes were a little too shiny, but it was too dark to be sure. "Nellie, you alright?"

She didn't grace him with an answer, her jaw going tense and making him increase his frown. He touched her arm. "What's-?"

A sharp slap that sent his whole face to the side cut him off. His cheek stinged, and he briefly thought it was a wonder that his glasses hadn't flown out of his face, into the ground. This wasn't like the time she had slapped him at the riverbank, out of worry. "How could you?" He heard Eleanor's voice, smaller than usual. He faced her, having the decency to look ashamed. She had been crying.

He gulped before talking. "You heard us." He simply said.

Eleanor drew in a sharp breath. "Yes, since the moment Daniels confessed he didn't want me here to the very end... How could you?" She asked him again more firmly.

After a moment, he eventually answered her. "We needed the money."

That sent her over the edge. "We still do! That's why we came here! That's why I trusted you!" She yelled, standing up. Her height only came to his chin. "How could you lie to me for two years, I'm your sister!"

"I didn't want to worry you, none of you."

Eleanor snorted in disbelief. "So having a double life is better." She said sarcastically, spatting back his own words to him. "Why, all the nights of _'late work'_ , the trips from state to state... And you were bootlegging. For fuck's sake, Bernard, I'd rather you actually gambled your money!" She rapidly brushed aside the tears staining her cheeks. "That way, at least my brother wouldn't be riskin' his life! Money is not everything, not when you have to pay a price so high! What would our parents say if you were sent to jail, uh? Or if a damn gangster put a bullet between your eyes! What would Lizzie say?"

Before he knew what was he saying the words had already rolled off his tongue. "I didn't see you complainin' when I brought home all those buck rolls, nor when you rejected James' proposal!"

After a second of shock, Eleanor pressed her lips into a thin line as more tears welled themselves on the edge of her blue orbs. There weren't existing words that could describe the guilt that overcame Burns' entire being as he realized what he had just said. "I'm so sorry, Nellie, I didn't mean it." He apologized as he tried to place his hand on her shoulder again. She took a step back, sharply ditching both his touch and his apology.

"Yes, you did." She shook her head, biting her lip so it wouldn't tremble. She began to walk away.

"Nellie-" Bernard made an attempt to follow her but his sister stopped him.

"Don't, just don't." With that, she quickly walked away, disappearing in the dark. He could only watch after her, helplessly. After some time, he clenched his hands into hard fists. Without being able to help himself, Burns kicked the stone her sister had been sitting on.

"Fuck!" He took a couple of deep breathes, then glanced one more time in the direction her sister had gone. Against his better judgement, he took her medical bag and walked lifelessly towards their tent. _"She just needs to calm down."_ Bernard kept telling himself. He had the feeling Eleanor wouldn't spend the night in their camp; he only prayed she'd be alright.

* * *

Henderson couldn't help but smile as he watched her approaching him with her chin high. Miss Jennings didn't seem so judgemental anymore, and he liked to assure himself that it meant he had more chances with her. Now that the Brit's sharp tongue wasn't so poisonous, he had the time of his life watching her struggling to still appear cold and out of his reach. It was like a game in which he'd try to peek beneath her aristocrat, ice mask and she'd try to keep him at bait. Perhaps that was what got him so stuck on her, the whole hard-to-get attitude... plus her looks. He swore the woman could outcome Eleanor Boardman if she wanted, only the Brit had thicker eyebrows; not that that feature made her any less attractive. Maybe all that cheesy bullshit about a soul mate and love at first sight wasn't so brainscattered after all.

He stood up, closing the distance between them with a chesire grin. "Don't look so smug." Adele told him before he could make any witty remarks.

"I didn't say anythin'." He replied, still grinning like a little boy. This was just too funny for him.

"You don't need to." She retored quickly. He chuckled, sitting down on a stone and moving the cowboy hat that was resting on it to the opposite side, to make room for the Brit, whom gladly took the seat offered. He spat the chewing tobacco to the groud too, moving his foot to cover it with sand. It was already tasteless anyway.

"So," He turned to face her. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Whiskey." She told him casually, making the American arch an eyebrow.

"Ya drunk?" He asked, feigning seriousness.

Adele couldn't help but roll her eyes a little, containing a smile. "Not me, Evelyn."

That actually made Henderson frown. "Who?"

"Evelyn Carnahan," Adele looked a couple of seconds at Henderson's unchanged expression of confussion before deciding to elaborate. "The other woman in my team, the archaeologist?" Recognition flashed across Henderson's face, although he took care of avoid mentioning which memory had come to his mind.

"So the woman's loosened up a little! That bothers ya?" He asked rhetorically. "Ya should follow 'er example."

"I bet you'd like that." Adele murmured to herself, pretending she hadn't seen his wolf-like grin. "I just thought my presence wasn't required there anymore. She and Mr. O'Connell looked quite... affective with each other." She added, wearing a grin of her own. She had known Evelyn fancied the man, ever since the moment Miss Carnahan had criticised him at port. "Plus," Adele continued, returning her brown gaze towards Henderson's. "Jonathan being unconciouss didn't help my case precisely. I've already told him a thousand times, he should donate his liver to the best hospital to be studied."

Henderson chuckled. "I won't dare feel special then, ya came 'ere as your last option."

She smiled ironically. "At least I came. That's more than any of us ever thought possible." Henderson kept silent, just watching her. He was curious, and cautious. He'd let her take their relationship in whichever pace and direction she felt more comfortable with. Before he said something that would displease her. She briefly looked away and, after a while, cleared her throat daintily like the good lady she was raised as. "I don't know anything about you, just your name."

Henderson couldn't help but make his smile bigger. "That's easy to remedy."

* * *

The next day, Eleanor woke up not knowing her surroundings. A furious pressure was pounding mercilessly her temples. For goodness shake, what had she drunk last night? The tent she was in wasn't familiar, at all. It had less furniture and bags than the one she shared with Bernard. She tried to stand up, but an arm around her waist made her freeze. Slowly, she moved her head and glanced at the man that was loudly snoring, laying on the blankets. " _Good. Lord._ " She quickly looked at both of their bodies, breathing out a sigh of relief. At least both of them were fully clothed, and she didn't feel anything similar to the satisfaying sensation of having had sex. Luckily. Eleanor certainly didn't want to get pregnant _now_ of all times, in the middle of the desert, in an underdeveloped country. Well, medically speaking. And from a man she met yesterday. No, she wasn't a fast girl. Just using her index and thumb fingers, she took the man's arm off of her, then stood up slowly, trying to keep her vision from becoming blurry. The hangover was hideous. Casting a last glance at the man, she quickly exited the tent, the sunrays hitting her eyes. She immediately lowered her head, glancing around her. She was in Miss Jennnings' camp. What had exactly happened last night?

Little by little, pieces of memories came to her. Eleanor remembered almost everything clearly; her fight with her brother, she storming out and bumping into the man that had been standing by Miss Jennings' side after the attack of the mysterious horsemen. What had been his introduction again...?

 _"Why, my name's Jonathan Carnahan, my dear girl. Descendant of adventurers, three times poker champion and London's own casanova, if I may."_ Yes, his introduction had been too funny and exaggerated to forget. The man was funny, he had managed to cheer her up a little, and charming enough to persuade her into joining his drinking time. He had replaced an empty bottle of whiskey for another, which she couldn't recall where had it come from, as alcohol seemed to appear out of thin air anywhere her friends and brother where in. She had told him she was angry with her teammates, so to speak, and in return Jonathan had confessed her that he had just woken up to find he was being a third wheel between his sister and Mr. O'Connell. That's why he had decided to wander around, hoping to find something interesting. They had sat near his camp, drinking and telling amusing anecdotes. Jonathan was the one that mainly did the talking, with interesting tales that probably were just inventions, or perhaps distortions of the real thing that happened. Either way, Eleanor remembered she had had a good time. After her third shot, however, she didn't remember anything else.

She hurriedly made her way over the other side of the City of the Dead, towards her camp; in a matter of minutes everybody would be waking up and preparing for another day of expediction. The sun was beginning to raise. Eleanor entered her tent, finding her brother snoring on his mattress and Ahmed sleeping on one of the carpets, by her empty bed. She frowned, scrutinizing the boy. She couldn't get rid of her gut feeling, telling her that something was wrong. After a minute in which nothing came to her mind, she shrugged and took a pair of pants, a dark shirt and her high boots. She went behind a simple curtain and quickly replaced her pretty dark grey dress with her chosen garments. It had been about two days since she last changed her attire, having slept on the same clothes. Anyway, she would bath as soon as they finished digging. Taming her inked locks into a french braid, like the ones her Mother had taught her to do, Eleanor finally stepped out of the curtain, finding Ahmed fully awake and her brother yawning as he began to gain conciousness. When he was done, Bernard looked at her unsure of what to say. She didn't move a muscle. He got to his feet and began to approach her but, before any apologies or words came out of his mouth, she exited the tent with the young boy following her like a lost puppy. He sighed in disappointment.

It was official, he had ruined everything.

* * *

Eleanor closed her blue orbs, feeling nausea. The headache was killing her, and the grave they had visited yesterday was only making things worse. She began to feel she was running out of air. Eleanor took a couple of deep breathes, taking care of ignoring the worried stares Daniels and especially her brother were giving her. Standing between them was Henderson, as a barrier, who also was glancing at her concerned. She forced herself to open her eyes and act as if nothing was wrong; as if she didn't have the feeling that the walls were going to close on them anytime soon; as if that wasn't the place were the diggers she had treated had almost melted yesterday... She had briefly checked on them before getting into the tomb, sad to see their condition had got worse, as the three now had a temperature and had lost their eyesight. She honestly didn't have many hopes in their recover, but as long as their heart beat, Eleanor Burns would try her best to save them.

On the other hand, both Bernie and Dave had tried to talk to her, but she simply had given them the cold shoulder, immediately walking up to Henderson. He was the one she was least angry with, although she was sure he probably was in the business too. The cowboy had also noticed something was very wrong but, smartly enough, decided to not ask about it, even though he already had an idea of what could it be... He just hoped Nellie would forgive them. Eventually. The tension among them was thick enough to be cut with a knife. On the other hand, Ahmed had been forced to stay in the surface; Dr. Chamberlain had insisted that down there he would only be a nuisance. Eleanor had asked the boy to prepare her a bath for when she came back to the open air, partially only to make the youngster busy, but also trying to make him feel valuable... Sort of. After all, he was only a child.

Eleanor observed how four workers extracted a heavy box made of stone from the sarcophagus thing. The slab they had taken yesterday rested exactly where they had left it by the ancient coffin. Eleanor wrapped her arms around herself. With all that had happened the other night, she had forgotten to ask Bernie to leave Hamunaptra, immediately. She would swallow her pride later to tell him; that would be the only time she would speak to him, at least until they reached Cairo. Nevermind, she also had the feeling that she was forgetting something else.

Dr. Chamberlain kneeled in front of the chest that was decorated with hieroglyphics and drawings, carefully passing a handkerchief over the cover. He looked mesmerized. Burns, Daniels and Henderson kneeled alongside the doctor, whereas she remained standing, one hand over her stomach. She wasn't feeling well, not at all. Through the corner of her eye, she spotted Mr. Gabor nearing the group while holding a lighted torch. The workers all kept their distance, especially after witnessing the traumatic experience their peers had gone through. Eleanor couldn't blame them.

The thundering in her head was growing stronger with every passing second; the noise of people talking reached her ears with difficulty, as if she was underneath water. She couldn't understand what they were saying. She supressed her gag reflex and opened her eyes, panicked. She had to get out of that goddamn tomb.

* * *

Burns stopped listening to the good doctor as soon as he saw Nellie paling more and more. He left the lantern he had been holding on the ground, coming up to her with a couple of long strides. He grasped her shoulders. "Nelie? C'mon girl, react!" He asked her, shaking her body. She didn't listen, staring blankly at his chest. Henderson and Daniels had approached her too, the first looking a little more calm than the second, since he had already seen Eleanor once through one of her episodes. For Daniels, on the other hand, it was the first time seeing his friend so sick. Burns glanced at them worriedly. "I'll take her to the surface!"

Daniels nodded, but right when Burns was about to walk away, Henderson spoke up. "I can do it."

Burns couldn't help but glare at him. "She's my sister."

Henderson took a step towards them. "I know, but ya know how things are now between ya guys. Maybe's better if I do it. Besides, I don't think ya remember all the way back, no offense."

Bernard pursed firmly his lips into a thin line. Henderson was right, in everything. Finally, he nodded. The lonnger they waited, the worse Nellie would feel. "Any problem, you come straight to me." He said, letting go of Eleanor's shoulders.

"Got it." With that, the blonde American began to lead the way back to the surface quickly, one arm wrapped around the woman's shoulders and the other holding a torch in front of them. His friend was breathing heavily, almost as if she was in shock. Burns never averted his blue eyes from them until their bodies disappeared in the dark.

* * *

When they finally got back into the open, Henderson threw the torch to the ground, kicking sand over the flame until it was dead. He quickly walked towards the Burns siblings' tent, still guiding the woman. He was about to step inside it when, suddenly, Eleanor woke up from her trance and broke free from him. She jogged a little before getting down to her knees, bending over and emptying the few contents of her stomach. Henderson looked away momentarily, then ignored his disgust to vomit and kneeled behind Nellie, holding her forehead. He awkwardly pat her back with his other hand while making a face, not being able to help himself. When she was done, they slowly stood up, he holding her arm. They waited for a couple of minutes before he spoke up.

"Better?" She nodded, still with her eyes closed. A minute later, she was sitting on her bed with the cowboy by her side and grasping a canteen filled with water. Ahmed wasn't in the tent, so they guessed the boy probably was outside, looking for everything that Eleanor would need for her bath.

"I think the headache was what made me so sick. Combined with the claustrophoby, it was fatal..." She murmured, trying to relax her body. Her stomach still made funny things but it was empty, she wouldn't throw up again anytime soon.

"Ya should take one 'a your magical pills or somethin'." Henderson suggested half-heartedly, making her shook her head with a small smile.

"How come Bernard let you help me?" She asked, genuinely curious.

"Things ain't exactly paradise between ya." She shivered at his statement.

"I'd rather not talk about that." She whispered, "I really don't. Moreover, I don't want to get so pissed with you as with them. Then I'll have no one to talk to."

He gazed at her from the side, since she refused to gaze back. "Then we won't." A minute passed, an awkward silence among them. Henderson bit the inside of his right cheek before speaking. "Mind if I ask ya somethin'? Nothin' related to... the business."

That made her look at him. "Go ahead," Said the nurse, slightly curious.

"Ya think I should make a move with Adele?" Eleanor felt her mouth ajar. She blinked a couple of times.

"...What?"

Henderson sighed, looking at the front. "She ain't Ice Queen anymore. Ya're a girl," Eleanor snorted, muttering a small _"Obviously."_ which her friend ignored. "So, do ya think I should make a bigger move? Think I have any chances of succeeding?" The American finished, glancing back to her in search of advise.

For her part, Eleanor would lie if she said she wasn't surprised of Howard Henderson asking her for love advice. Which, by the way, that was funny itself, asking her of all people. _"He must really like her for something else than a one night stand."_ She thought, playing with the end of her braid. Finally, she answered him.

"If by a _'bigger move'_ you mean make passes at her, then definitely no. If you mean other kind physical contact, more innocent... Well, I've seen Miss Jennings coming willingly to talk with you. That may mean something." She said. "I guess you could try small things. But, in any case, let her decide. If you wanna hold her hand, just caress it softly and let her join your fingers if she wants. And, by any means, don't harass her... excessively at least. Try to show a little interest, enough to make her come to you. Remember, the hard-to-get attitude doesn't work only with women."

* * *

After a good while that Eleanor had spent laying on her bed with her eyes closed, she heard bustling back in the camp. She stood up, seeing through the tent's fabric the sun. It was past midday. Henderson had gone back inside the ruins once their conversation was over and after making sure she was stable. She had actually fallen asleep for a while, feeling the pressure in her skull slowly disappearing. Several times she had poured some water to her forehead and the nape of her neck, in an attempt to keep heat at bait, but it felt useless since the next minute sweat graced her skin again. Nevermind, she stretched her back, opening her eyes upon hearing someone coming inside. It was Ahmed, holding a great bucket with water while trying to keep his balance. He left it on the ground, then gestured to the small table separating the beds. On there rested body lotions and shampoo. Eleanor thanked him in Arabic, being one of the very few words she had learnt, then told him in English to wait outside and make sure nobody came in. After a second time and a careful and slow pronunciation, he understood what she wanted and stepped outside. He seemed so excited for an unknown reason to her. Eleanor undressed, then quickly washed her body and hair. Once she was dressed again, she moved the tent's flap and couldn't help herself. She smiled, amused, upon seeing Ahmed's back to her, with his arms crossed at his back and his feet a little distant, imitating a bodyguard or a soldier. She touched his shoulder, still smiling. Wordlessly, he got the bucket and walked away.

"Nellie," The American nurse heard her brother's voice. She turned around to face him; _"He looks so disheartened..."_ She drew in a sharp breath, trying not give in so easily. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." She softly told him, not sure if he only meant physically. "I need to talk with you, though. About something different."

"Sure." He gestured to the tent and they both got inside. "What is it?"

Eleanor gulped before answering. "We need to leave this place." Bernard frowned.

"Why you say that?" He paused. "Is it because the attack?" He didn't wait for her reply. "C'mon Nellie, we ain't superstitious. Plus, there's actually a treasure! Look what we found," He brought his hand up to the front while holding out something she had failed to notice before. It was an urn, filigreed with gold and jewels. The top was the head of a lion. "Doc said it's a canopic jar, worth a fortune! See? There's a treasure here! We'll surely find more stuff like this baby." Eleanor looked back at his excited face, feeling tears forming in her eyes.

"Fine, we got that, and it looks expensive. We can sell it back home, or even in Cairo, but _please_ , let's get out of this place." She begged, surprised at how desperated her voice sounded. Bernard frowned too, lowering the jar.

"What are you so scared of, Nell?" He asked his sister softly, taking a step towards her. He didn't dare to try to embrace her; she still was pissed off with him.

She breathed in shakily. "I don't know! I just know death isn't worth it. If an animal or an ancient curse don't kill us, then those butchers from last night will! Please, Bernie, we got that jar. It will pay us your wedding and Mother's treatment. We don't need more."

The oldest Burns' eyebrows knitted together even more as he kept an inner battle within him. They couldn't leave now that they were so close! Surely, if they just were careful during the night the mad horsemen wouldn't caught them off guard again. Burns looked up to her baby sister's face, yet he couldn't bring himself to deny her anything. Especially after he had screwed everything once more. He gulped. "Nellie, if we wanna leave we gotta talk with the boys too-" He began, making up the first excuse that came to his mind, but she interrupted him.

"Tell them, and if they refuse to come, then..." She didn't finish the sentence. Eleanor really wished they would leave all together, but if she had to choose between them and her brother, the answer was clear. Bernard sighed, then slowly nodded.

"Fine then... I'll talk with them. We'll leave tonight."

* * *

 **A.N/: Finally! I think that's my first real cliffhanger in this story *evil grin*. As always, I hope you enjoyed your reading. Thank you everyone who has read, followed, faved and reviewed! :)**

 **Next chapter will be out in late September, or perhaps October. By the way, forgive the large amount of 1920s slang I used in this chapter; I just began to write and things came up like that before I could process it XD Anyway, I'm pretty sure everybody knows who Al Capone is, but I'll leave it in the dictionary below, just in case.**

 **~Se acerca el invierno**

* * *

 _ **And how!**_ **= I strongly agree!**

 _ **Chassis**_ **= The female body**

 _ **Berries =**_ **That which is attractive or pleasing; similar to bee's knees**

 _ **Bump off**_ **= To murder, kill**

 _ **Bootlegger =**_ **The person who trades illegal liquor**

 _ **All wet =**_ **Describes an erroneous idea or individual**

 ** _John E. Hoover =_ First Director of the FBI of the United States**

 ** _Al Capone_ = American gangster who attained fame during the Prohibition era**

 _ **Handcuff =**_ **An engagement ring**

 ** _Daddy_ = A young woman's boyfriend or lover, especially if he's rich**

 _ **What's eating you? =**_ **What's wrong?**

 _ **Cheaters =**_ **Eyeglasses**

 _ **Stuck on =**_ **Having a crush on**

 _ **Eleanor Boardman =**_ **American film actress of the silent era**


	9. VIII Curse's Awakening

**_VIII. Curse's Awakening_**

"Why so happy?"

He turned around upon being adressed, his eyes narrowing at the painful sunrays that were accentuating his headache. "I can assure you, old girl, my face is anything but happy right now."

She looked distractedly to the Anubis statue, where the hole they had opened the day before awaited them, containing a coy smile. "Well, you have that look."

His face twitched in confusion. "What look?"

They kept walking side by side, deliberatedly slowing their steps as in front of them Evelyn and Mr. O'Connell led the way towards their entrance to the city below. "The same one which you had when I had to hide you in Cairo from the manager of a brothel." She briefly looked sideways towards the hangover Brit, this time not hiding her amusement. "Has Miss Burns lowered her IQ and allow you to woo her?"

"You sneaky woman," Said he, ignoring the subtle insult. "I'm glad to inform you, my dearest Addie, that's none of your beeswax. How could you think I'd not be a gentleman?"

"I recall you've never considered yourself a gentleman." She pointed out.

"Ah, yes, nevermind, a man's entitled to keep his secrets, don't you think?" She snorted.

"Depends on the secret." Said she.

"Why, two can play that game, old moll." Mr. Carnahan told her, raising his eyebrow. After a moment of contemplation the little smile in her lips vanished, realizing what was he hinting at. He laughed just as they reached the entrance. Adele suppressed an involuntary shiver as the carnage of last night resurfaced in her mind, remembering that the warden had also died yesterday. A knot appeared in the pit of her stomach, and she couldn't help but give her three companions a small glance. She had been the only one who had wanted to take the body back to the surface and bury it. To say that the rest had been reluctanct was an understatement. Adele was aware her religious beliefs were much stronger than any of the Carnahan siblings, and let's not even mention Mr. O'Connell's. She did believe in God and an afterlife, just as she had been raised, even if she rarely went into the church anymore or she didn't pray every night. In spite of all of that, she still believed in the Christian faith. Perhaps she would try to ask again to bring the warden's body back to the surface to bury it properly. She almost chuckled, already able to hear Mr. O'Connell's reasoning. _"He already_ is _in a tomb, lady, and doubt he could find a better one too."_

He had a point, she must admit. Besides, the warden was a Muslim. Were their funerals too different from hers? Mentally shaking herself, she hold onto the rope tied to the statue, following Mr. O'Connell, who had already lowered himself into the depths of Hamunaptra. When she was reaching their level, he helped her down to the ground. Next followed Evelyn, and lastly Jonathan.

The uncertainity soon was forgotten when her brown eyes found the sarcophagus they had discovered yesterday. Instead, excitement and anticipation coursed through her body as she approached it eagerly, running a smooth hand over the sand. The lock was already clean, as Evelyn had discovered the other day. Sensing eyes upon her, Adele looked up to collide with the hazel gaze and lovely smile of her employer. She returned the smile.

"Alright, so what we do?" Mr. O'Connell asked, striding up to them as he came to stand by Evelyn, at the opposite side of the sarcophagus Adele was in front of.

"I think we first should clean it to read the inscriptions." Adele sugested, glancing at Evelyn. No matter how small their age difference was, Adele couldn't deny the archaeologist was far more of an expert than she was, in spite of how promising her work was. Evelyn nodded, approving the idea.

"We'll need some brushes." Miss Carnahan circled the ancient coffin, drinking in its sight. "If my assumptions are correct, there should be one or two more sarcophagus inside this one." She told them excitedly as she squated at its side, measuring the depth it may have.

"Multiple wrappers?" Asked O'Connell sardonically, tossing Jonathan a brush which he surprisingly caught.

"Like candy," Confirmed Mr. Carnahan as he too approached the sarcophagus and began to lazily wipe off sand.

Mr. O'Connell handed her a brush and, immediately, Adele crouched to clean the sides of the sarcophagus, eager to see the hyerogliphics carved in the stone. She could understand most of them, but found quite the difficult task to pronounce the words in Ancient Egyptian. No matter how hard Evelyn taught her, the words were just kind of a nonsensical cacophony, whereas it seemed a second nature to Evelyn. Even Jonathan had little trouble speaking and deciphering them. Adele supposed it was given their Egyptian heritage on mother's side and their early education in the subject. Soon enough, the symbols appeared before her eyes, making her take a deep breath to calm her enthusiasm. She stood up, helping Evelyn and Jonathan clean the rest of the sand on top of the sarcophagus while Mr. O'Connell finished one of the sides.

The four gathered together as mainly Evelyn began to decipher the hyerogliphics, moving her lips without speaking. Adele run her fingertips over the symbols before another shiver crawled all the way down her back. "What does it say?" O'Connell asked.

She swallowed saliva, remembering the conversation she and Mr. O'Connell had had at the ship.

* * *

 _"How big is the possibility of..." She hesitated, "Of not coming back?"_

 _Then his gaze changed to one contemplative. "You're one of the few people who has ever asked that." He paused. "To be honest, I don't know for sure. But you better get yourself prepared for the worst, lady. There's a reason for all the legends."_

 _She squinted her eyes, her heart pounding a little faster than usual. "And which is that reason?"_

 _He looked right into her eyes and said without any trace of doubt. "Evil."_

* * *

Snapping out of the flashback, her gaze flickered to the American before answering him. "A warning."

"It recites various prayers to Inpu, better known as Anubis, god of death and master of the necropolis; Usir, Osiris," Evelyn said.

"God of the resurrection and president of the trial court of the deceased." Jonathan supplied.

"And Sejmet, goddess of war and revenge." Adele finished, supressing the urge to gulp. It was certainly odd to ask for the revenge against the deceased in the Underworld. "Portrayed with a lioness head, mane, the protective snake and the Ankh." She pointed with her finger for Mr. O'Connell to see. "She killed those who dared to confront or attack the divine or earthly monarchy." Adele finished, sending him a small, nervous glance.

"So that means..." He drawled, meeting her gaze.

Mr. Carnahan completed his sentence. "Whoever is buried here was very naughty..." Said he, recalling Evy's words from yesterday.

After a moment, Evelyn broke the tension holding up the puzzle box with an excited grin. "Let's find out."

* * *

Bernard had left her sister in their tent with the boy, not venturing again inside the tomb. Instead, he paced at its entrance, beyond nervous. The boys and the doc had already come out from the City, but he couldn't find enough courage to tell them what had transpired between Eleanor and him. At least not yet. He could already see the disappointment in Henderson's face and the concealed anger in Dave's dark eyes. _"But what choice do I have? She's my sister!"_ He thought to himself. He paused his pace, his blue eyes lingering on the jar he was still grasping. The sight of the orchid made him gulp. Was his greed so big that he'd refuse to leave?

He was sure of one thing; Eleanor wouldn't go alone into the desert. If she left, he would follow.

After what felt like a long time, he finally looked up while taking a deep breath. He had to tell them, now. The sooner, the better. Finally making up his mind, he began to walk towards Dave's tent.

Meanwhile, the sun wouldn't take much longer to set. After he made it to Daniels' tent, he found both of his friends already there, as he had asked. Henderson was sitting on a wooden chest, facing the entrance, whereas Dave had been pacing, dead serious. Burns was almost certain that he had, at least, the suspicion of what he and Nellie were about to do. Without bothering to make small talk or sugarcoat the news, he told them straight away.

"Oi, pipe down! Ya can't be serious." Henderson said, looking at him puzzled. Nervously, Burns pushed his spectacles up before gazing back at them.

"I can't say no to 'er."

"Like hell ya can't!" Daniels snapped, standing up from where he had been sitting, on his makeshift bed, after he had grown tired of striding the place. "I knew lettin' her come was a bad idea. Ya always become a damn pushover with her around!"

Burns' eyes briefly flashed, angered. "Watch it, Dave."

Daniels stopped his restorted, angry pace, looking directly at him with one of the coldest glares Bernard had ever witnessed on his friend's visage.

"That a threat, Bernie?" He calmly asked, taking slow steps towards the taller American, who in response clenched his jaw harshly.

Henderson hurriedly got to his feet, setting himself between both of his friends. "C'mon boys, don't get all hood, will ya?" He slightly turned to Burns. "Can't Nellie leave if she scared or something? We've invested a hell lot a' dough in this. We can't just quit, especially now." He tried to reason, gesturing to his own canopic jar.

Burns gulped again, focusing on the blonde cowboy. "I'm not gonna leave 'er. I've already screwed things up, don't want to make 'em worse." He briefly glanced to Daniels, who hadn't moved an inch and whose body was completely tense. "She suggested ya go back with us, though. She's really got this bad... feelin'."

Daniels scoffed sarcastically. "Well, if the dame says so, we must obey right?" He spat the words, running a hand over his head before looking back at the other two Americans. "She was the one that wanted adventure, now that she gets it what she do? Run away like a coward!" He jabbed a firm finger towards Burns. "And drag ya along with 'er."

"Ya saw what happened last night!" Burns snapped, unconciously taking a step forward as if that would make Daniels decide to leave with them. "Can you really blame her? She's just looking out for us!" He defended the nurse.

"No one asked her to!" Daniels replied, head on. "And if that's so, why ain't she the one telling us this, uh?" That seemed to silence all of them.

Daniels bit his tongue before he continued and said something he'd surely regret later. But he couldn't help himself; he was furious, beyond livid. And what he despised most, he felt betrayed by both of the Burns siblings. He was like a wounded beast who lashed out to anyone daring to approach him, because it was easier to let his anger cloud his judgement. Of course anybody could see the logic in Eleanor's decision, but that didn't mean he was willing to. No, this was the third time in his life that he truly felt abandoned, and he would make sure it was also the last.

"Dave-" Henderson began, igniting even more his annoyance. At this moment _everything_ angered him.

"I'm stayin'," He interrupted the cowboy, switching his glare between both men before finally setting it onto Burns. "Leave fer all I care, more gold for me." The black-haired man icely declared, strangely uncomfortable upon seeing the sad gleam in his so called friend's eyes. Not standing the sight of it, the guilty that it awakened within him, he sharply turned around, giving them his back. After all, wasn't that what he was best at? Avoiding feelings? Memories of Ruth threatened to resurface in his mind, and out of practice he pushed them into the darkest and deepest part of his mind.

"Sorry, Bernie." Henderson softly declared, indicating that he too was staying. He heard the sound of Burns' boots moving away, then there was silence.

* * *

Seeing her brother walking into their tent with a defeated expression plastered on his face was enough to confirm her suspicions about Dave and Howard's decision. Containing a sigh, Eleanor turned back again to finish packing her baggage with the few clothes she had taken out yesterday. She was done within minutes. Tentatively, she gazed upon her shoulder at her brother, whose back was also turned in her direction as he mindlessly packed his own belongings. Eleanor bit the inside of her cheek, resisting the urge to play with her free hair locks. She hated how guilty she felt.

 _"But they're the ones that have betrayed me."_ She told herself, and it was true. Yet, the guilt didn't disappear. Contrarily, it grew stronger after a second glance at Bernie's tensed back. Eleanor was more than convinced that leaving was the right decision. Then again, what right entitled her to force Bernie to leave as well? She had been a coward; she should've been the one to tell their friends of the departure, for it had been her idea. And even so, she had hidden in the safety of the tent, trying to keep her thoughts busy. Realizing her hands were firmly closed in two fists, Eleanor forcefully stretched her bony fingers while raising her chin. "You don't need to come with me." Her voice said softly.

After a moment, Bernard replied. "What you talkin' about now?"

She gulped. "You don't need to come with me if you want to stay here." She told her, her voice sounding more determined now. "I know how important this is for you three." She added, refusing to face her brother. Annoyingly enough, her eyes were watering too.

A thick silence formed within the fabrics protecting them from judging eyes and the desert sand. Eleanor was almost convinced that Bernard wouldn't answer her when warm hands and a small pressure on her shoulders made her turn around. The firm gaze of her brother rooted her to the spot, making her muscles tense in anticipation. She would've been lying if she said she wasn't relieved to find no malice nor resentment in his easy-going features.

He ran a smooth hand over her right cheek, where a tear had found its way down the side of her face. "We're leaving, now."

* * *

Henderson had been leaning against the tomb's entrance, absently chewing onto his tobacco with his gaze unfocused. Some diggers came, others went. It made no difference to him. Then, he caught glimpse of the Burns siblings exiting their tent. Eleanor was carrying all of their bags as she quickly strode away, towards the horses, with her own gaze clinged to the ground to avoid seeing any of them. He knew her too well, and the realization that she had no intentions of even saying goodbye hurt him more than he'd ever admit. Henderson could understand her fear towards Daniels, but him? He clenched his jaw harshly, looking as good Bernie began to take down the tent. When he was done, both men's eyes collided. Through his rounded spectacles, Burns looked at him apologetically, then gave a curt nod which he returned.

With that, he too walked away.

* * *

"Off to get some cash, Addie?" Jonathan's voice addressed her. He whistled just as she twisted her neck enough to glare at him with her eyebrow raised, "My, Egypt really is doing you good, darling. I didn't know this side of you."

She rolled her eyes, nevermind grinning a little. "Jealous, Mr. Carnahan?" She asked as her legs resumed the way.

"Certainly!" She chuckled, good-naturedly, in respone to Jonathan's stupidity as her steps took her to the American camp.

Some of the workers gave her a brief look before ignoring her and getting back to work. She ignored them too, navigating herself more confidently through the tents and crowds. It took her a bit more than she thought, but eventually she found Mr. Henderson, sitting on a rock while holding something with both of his hands. His attention was solely on said object. She sat down next to him, a bit of a distance she usually kept between the cowboy and herself. It was odd for him to not acknowledge her presence, and she was sure he had noticed her.

"What's troubling you today, Mr. Henderson?" Asked she, glancing sideways to the American. He chuckled wryly before answering her question, rather apathetically.

"Ya not usin' my first name."

She softly chuckled before trying again. "What's troubling you today, Howard?" The Brit caught sight of his small smirk, but otherwise, no answer. Adele fully looked at him. "What happened?" Her voice sounded softer than she had intended to.

Evetually, Henderson looked at her as well. "The Burns left. A fight broke the Cowbell Troop." He added sardonically, pleased to see the faint blush of embarrassment in Miss Jennings' cheeks. Yes, he had heard the name she'd chosen for them. He wasn't mad, though. It was quite fitting.

"Have they already left?" She couldn't help but ask, concerned. "Alone?"

He shrugged. "Think they got another guide with 'em. The difficult part's finding this place, not leavin' it."

After a moment of hesitation, Adele placed a cold hand on his left, bare forearm. In response, he placed his own right hand above hers, thankful to be able to blame her coldness for the goosebumps on his skin. "Ya're always friggin cold, Ice Queen." He said, lost in her face while his thumb absently drew circles on her hand. To his surprise, she smiled a bit.

"I know, my hands and feet are always cold, ever since I can remember." She averted her brown eyes from him, glancing at the front. "Bad circulation, I suppose." Before he could say anything, Adele had already spoken again. "Where did you get that from?"

Henderson followed her gaze, seeing that his jar now had the archaeologist's attention. "The compartiment where our teams almost had a duel." She took her hand from his skin.

"May I?" Asked the Brit while holding her hands out, like a child who wants his father to scoop him up. He offered it to her without complaint. Henderson was taken aback at her fascination; Miss Jennings held the jar with the most delicated touch, gradually turning it to inspect every inch of it. Her fingertips caressed the smooth, porcelain surface, the gold and jewels decorating it and, lastly, the falcon's head. When she was done, she turned back to him. "Do you know what is this?"

Henderson set his gaze on the object for a moment before looking back at her. "Not really." He moistened his lips. "Care to explain?"

The American could've sworn he had caught a brief hesitation from the Brit's part. Nevermind, soon enough it was gone as she began her lecture. "It's called a canopic jar. Ancient Egyptians used them for the funeral rituals." Upon seeing his interested look, Adele elaborated. "Normally, priests used to utilize four of these to keep the internal organs of the deceased and protect them," She slightly gestured to the jar that her hand held. "Each jar represented minor funerary deities known as the Four Sons of Horus. Imsety, the human-headed god, guarded the liver. Hapy, the baboon-headed god, looked after the lungs. Duamutef, the jackal-headed god, looked after the stomach and upper intestines. And Qebehsenuef," Adele offered him the jar, which he took after a brief moment. "The falcon-headed god that looked after the lower intestines." He couldn't help himself, Henderson made a face.

"Ya sayin' this guy has some mummy's intestine inside?" He asked while holding up the jar, the grim look still distorting his handsome face. Adele gave out a small chuckle.

"Precisely. Ancient Egyptians believed the dead would need his organs back in the Underworld, so they took them out after his death to preserve them separatedly from the body, therefore he could be reborn in the Afterlife. By the Nineteenth Dynasty, the jars used were these." She paused for an instant, watching carefully the American's expression. He was a mix of curiosity and disgust. Briefly biting her bottom lip, she spoke again. "That one," She gestured to the falcon. "Was protected by Serqet, the goddess of nature, healing venoms and medicine, deification of the scorpion. She was the one to cut a person's breath, but also the one to give it back."

After a moment of contemplation which Henderson spent analyzing his jar, he smirked. "Ya said Imtesy-"

"Imsety," She quickly corrected him, faintly amused.

"Guarded the liver, right?" He continued, making her nod. The American gave a small laugh. "Daniels shoulda kept that one then." Adele shook her head as she merrily joined in his laughter. After some minutes, both had calmed down. "Nevermind, the mokey is also fittin', Dave's lungs must be darker than coal from all his smokin'." Adele chuckled too, closing her eyes for a bit while enjoying the decrease of temperatures; she liked how easily her laughter was boosted with him around. Opening her eyes again, she couldn't help but ask after another second of hesitation.

"I suppose you'll sell it, won't you?" All humor disappeared from the atmosphere as both of them grew serious.

"What else?" Said he, "That's why we came. Get ourselves some treasure."

Adele refused to look at him, not even sparing him a glare. Stubbornly, the archaeologist locked her eyes onto the setting sun, her jaw clenched. "I should report you all..."

"Then why don't ya?" Henderson's voice was also taut.

She pursed her lips one more time, before standing up and walking away without any more words. On his part, Henderson watched her, hopelessly angered that, yet again, another person he cared for was deliberatedly distancing herself from him. He threw another tobacco piece into his mouth, hurriedly chewing onto it. Since when had things become such a complicated mess?

* * *

Sooner than Daniels expected, it was nighttime again. He sat by the opening of his tent, staring apathetically at the empty, spacious spot in front of him, where the Burns' tent was set yesterday. As anger threatened to resurface again, he lift his right hand and took a long puff of his cigarette. He inhaled deeply, feeling the smoke in his swollen lungs tainting them, before he exhaled, relaxing at the instant. The cloud of white-greyish smoke slowly rose to the sky.

Bernard hadn't come to them again, not even to let them know he was leaving for good. He chuckled out loud; if good-mannered Bernie hadn't had the guts to face him a last time, then he didn't have a clue why he had expected Nellie to come to him and kiss him goodbye. A meek coward indeed, one he cared too much for. He hated that he cared. Caring never is good. It's the easiest, quickest and stupidiest way to get hurt. He should've learnt by now, he shouldn't care for either of them. Yet, there he was, drowning in anger and smoke while also pitying himself, all because they had left. Because they had been strong enough to overcome greed, unlike him. All of them had debts, but did that matter to Eleanor? No. Otherwise, she wouldn't have left. Moreover, who the hell was supposed to actually cure their future wounds? He sure as hell wasn't gonna let any digger touch him, Dr. Chamberlain was only good advicing with Egyptian stuff, and barely so in his opinion, and Henderson lacked the guts to get over his disgust for any body fluid that wasn't blood or... In short, he was no doctor. _"Damn woman..."_

Robotically, he inhaled deeply again, then breathed out a mouthful of smoke. He contemplated the cigarette between his index and middle finger, slowly turning his hand so he could scrutinize it from most angles. The only legacy he got from his father, an addiction to nicotine and any smokable plant. His left hand, still hanging from Nellie's brown veil for his bullet wound to heal, closed in a fist. He had hated his father for as long as he could remember. He was no father after all; he barely aknowledged him or his Mother when he was at home, and usually spent most of his time and money somewhere else. Hollowing out the nearest bar's stock, or making a couple of hookers get their bills payed for the day. The only thing Daniels could acknowledge of him was his lack of a violent streak. Not that it really made up for everything else. He had been the first person to leave him, when Daniels was fifteen. Her Mother had died a year later, but he didn't count it as another abandonment. As he carefully inspected the cigarette once more Daniels could see the irony, that he resembled the man so much... It was frustrating.

Ten years later from that moment, he had met _her_. His own Delilah, Ruth Lane. Deep down, he was fully aware that she'd been too good for him; gentle enough to shut his demons and blatant enough to hardly ever bore him. He still could feel the fine, auburn strands of her hair through his calloused fingers, her pale skin and her slender body beneath his and those mischevous grey eyes, always daring him. A breath of fresh air straight into his choking life she had been. The only woman he couldn't deny a part of him would always long for; hell, he had even accepted when she'd proposed. After all, Ruth had always wanted a family to settle down and he had been willing to give it to her. Perhaps the only moment he hadn't been a selfish bastard was when he'd broken the engagement and, in the process, her heart as well. They'd often fight, but she would always forgive him. He infinitely appreciated her forgiving nature, but that precisely was what made him break the engagement. Would she have forgiven him had she found out that he had slept with a black-haired beauty a month before their wedding? Would she've kept forgiving him if he'd have still slept around after marrying? No, he wasn't the man for her. The pressure of marriage had been too much for him to handle, so he had gone to another woman. And Ruth didn't need to suffer for it.

Daniels would rather spend the rest of his life buying a whore's meaningless touch than do so while also leaving his wife at home. He may be similar to his father, but he refused to completely embrace his unfaithful heredity. Instead, a good pair of tits and a pleasant face could do; he had already admitted that he was a bastard, so why deny he cared about the looks of the women he screwed? Fast girls, whether prostitutes or not, were easier, and allowed him to deal with little to no emotions.

Miss Jennings' hair was the same shade Ruth's had been. He hadn't missed their resemblance. Yet, the moment that the Brit had spoken to him, he'd been angered by both, her determination -similar to Ruth's- and her demanding voice. She'd been the one in need, so she should've been the one with the tail between the legs. Daniels puffed the cigarette a couple of times. Eleanor also had some shared traits with Ruth. Nevermind, he respected her enough not to fall down that same path. Besides, she lacked some of the inner fire he appreciated in a woman.

Eleanor Burns had been the cause of his third abandonment. And there he was, internally moping for it. She and Bernard had given him again some stability; it only was fair that they were the ones to take it from him. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to hate them, not them. Both, especially Eleanor, held an immovable spot in his life, just like Ruth. One no one else could ever replace.

Daniels took a deep breath before letting the remainder of his cigarette fall to the ground, then he kicked some sand over it. He was standing up when his ears caught sound of Dr. Chamberlain yelling. He quickly turned around, his right already on the revolver at his side. But instead of finding more crazy bedouins of the last night, he saw nothing. Then, in slow motion, a weird cloud began to advance towards his direction. He narrowed his eyes. _"The hell...?"_ Then, as soon as he saw the thousands of insects that formed the cloud, he turned around and ran. Henderson and most diggers followed him, shouting. Then, being the only cover available, they ran into the tomb.

* * *

"Where the hell it came from?" Henderson yelled as he forced his legs to gain speed. He never heard if someone had answered him. The human serpent kept running and twisting through Hamunaptra's corridors, not knowing what were they running from anymore. His thoughts briefly casted the vision of Adele Jennings' face, and he couldn't help but worry. He hadn't seen her since she left after their practically non-existent fight.

Someone's arm slapped his hard as the person fell to the ground, almost making him lose his own balance. Through the corner of his eye he noticed it was one of their workers, so pushing aside any feeling of guilt, he kept running. Only four people would've made him stop, and only one of them was there, running for his life too behind him.

* * *

At first Daniels wasn't sure of what had happened, but then he had come face down to the ground. Groaning in annoyance, he spat the sand out of his mouth and looked behind him. A damn digger was also getting up from the ground. Daniels hadn't seen him laying there in the first place, so tripping had been unavoidable. Without sparing each other more than a glare, both of them reassumed their race, but it was too late. After turning a passage's corner for the second time, Daniels bitterly realized they were lost.

He slowed down, the digger, copying him, too afraid to wander alone through the City of the Dead. He was speaking hurriedly in his native tongue, his dark eyes shining in fear. After a second, Daniels yelled at him, telling him to shut up. Successfully enough, the man fell silent as the American tried to hear anything. The place was eeriely quiet. Then, a gust of wind surrounded them, making the digger run in the opposite direction it had come from, scared. Daniels scoffed, "Damn coward."

An instant later, he realized. Like a wolf separated from his pack, he was alone now.

* * *

Adele had fallen with Evy through the moving wall, and she still could hear Jonathan and Mr. O'Connell's muffled yells for them. Miss Carnahan's arm was on her shoulders, holding her close to her as they tried to calm down and figure a way out. She hoped they, along with Mr. Henderson, were alright, dryly thinking that, indeed, Miss Burns was far from stupid. She and her brother now were the only ones somewhat safe.

"We should've listen to the horsemen..." Adele murmured.

"A bit late for that," Evelyn whispered. Their careful steps came to a halt when they heard someone moaning in pain behind them. Adele didn't know how she managed to suppress her scream from the startle.

Turning around, they recognized Mr. Daniels' back. Evelyn untangled herself from Adele's side, who remained frozen, fearing the worst. "Oh, thank God, Mr. Daniels! Adele and I were so afraid..." Evelyn was saying, approaching him. Meanwhile, the other woman felt tears in her eyes.

Then, when she gazed at Mr. Daniels' bloody and empty sockets, she did scream. And so did Evelyn. Wryly enough, Adele advanced towards Mr. Daniels, who flinched at her cold touch and tried to back away, falling to the ground in the process. She bent her knees too, holding his hand tightly. "It's me, Mr. Daniels." He had heard her, but still grasping her hand, he moved away, making her move too. Adele heard Evelyn screaming again, so she turned around. And then, there it was. Their mummy, menancingly advancing towards her friend.

A cold sweat bathed her, remembering the words carved in the inside of the sarcophagus, the words _that_ now walking corpse had written before dying. _"Death is only the beginning."_

* * *

Henderson and the remainder of his troop had encountered O'Connell and the other fella just moments ago. When he'd realized Daniels was missing he had gone mad, screaming his head off for his grumpy friend to hear him. But then, a damn growing buldge on the ground had frozen them as they stared. From the buldge, countless of beetles had emerged, going straight towards them, so they had run in the opposite direction. Another digger had fallen in the new riot, and Henderson had risked a glance behind his shoulder to watch, horrified, that the man had become a corpse when the bugs were done with him. Now, they kept running, he at the front with O'Connell in front of him and Mr. Carnahan at his side.

The other American sharply turned to their left, and Henderson saw the Brit's sister, frozen, as O'Connell dragged her away from the place. Hadn't he heard his name, he wouldn't have bothered to check if there was somebody else in the room and would've followed the rest to the surface. But not only had he heard his name, he had heard _Adele's_ voice calling him. That is what made him stop dead in his tracks and look to his left, his blue gaze colliding with Adele's crouched body next to Dave. He gulped, then jogged to them as Adele rose to her full height, making Daniels moan in protest at the thought of being left behind. Without helping himself, once they were within an arm lenght distance, Henderson placed his right hand in the nape of her neck, tangling his fingers in her messy locks, then crashed his mouth down against hers. It was just a couple of seconds in which he only pressed his dry lips to hers, but that stolen kiss was enough to give him life. When he pulled apart, Henderson surveyed her shocked, blushing face and, with a small caress of his thumb, still resting on her neck, he kneeled by Daniels side, ignoring his mutilated eyes and mouth.

"Dave," Daniels moaned, holding his hand out for him. Henderson took it, hoisting him up to his feet, afterwards putting his friend's arm on his own shoulders. "We're gonna get ya outta 'ere, ya hear me?" He was about to walk away with both, Adele and Dave, when a guttural roar froze them. He looked to his right, then let out a scream as both of his arms spread themselves and he pushed the other American and the Brit into the wall behind them, like a mother hen protecting her babies.

 _"It's not possible..."_ He kept thinking. The half-decomposed corpse, which he noticed was glaring at them with Dave's dark eyes, said something in a language he didn't understand. Remembering his revolver, he took it out and aimed. But when Henderson was about to pull the trigger as the mummy roared again, angered and with one of his dead arms reaching for them, all of them heard a meow and a hiss. Save for Daniels, they all looked to the left, just in time to see a man clad in dark robes holding up a wooden cage with a Persian cat inside. The man placed himself between them and the mummy, which roared for the third time, frightened. Then, the bedouin held up the cage while letting out a small war cry and, successfully enough, the mummy fled, making a cloud of sand rise and surround them. They closed their eyes tightly.

Henderson lowered his right arm from his face, still holding the gun. Adele was gripping his left arm forcefully, still pressed against the tomb's wall with Henderson's arm in front of her. He placed his right arm back in front of Daniels, glaring distrustfully at the man whose face, now visible, had tattoed cheeks. He glared at them too, then said something loudly in Arabic which he also didn't understand. But Adele did. The man had yelled _"Here!"_

From both sides of the corridor, more men in black came until seven stood before them. The one in the centre, the leader, a young handsome man with his forehead and cheeks also tattoed, took a step towards them while lowering the scarf covering half of his nose and his whole mouth.

He scrutinized the three of them, his dark eyes resting a while longer on Daniels. Upon noticing this, Henderson moved himself to stand in front of Dave, shielding him from the desert warriors.

"We told you, you had to leave this place." The leader said sternly, frustrated.

"The hell was that?" Henderson snapped, still not putting away his gun. "What's he done to Dave?" He almost yelled.

"That creature is an undead, a plague," Said he, advancing towards them. He stopped right before Henderson, both trying to stare down each other's nose. "Now he will hunt whoever disturbed the Book of the Dead. With his awakening, you have woken his curse too." Henderson didn't stop glaring, but he did press his lips in a firm, thin line, gulping. Daniels' moans broke the tense silence, making their rescuers focus on him. "We must take him to the surface, before the creature comes to finish his work." Said the man in black, looking back at them. He glanced behind him and said something in Arabic to his men.

 _"Take him, guide them out of the City. And be careful with the injured,"_ Adele translated in her mind. She placed a hand on Henderson's shoulder when he reached for his revolver once more, distrustful of the two men that had began to make their way towards Daniels. He looked at her. "They won't hurt us." She told him softly. After a moment of hesitation, he gave her an imperceptible nod and, looking back at the leader, stepped aside.

The men took Daniels' arms and then guided them to the surface. The leader was at the rearguard, for he had said something to the four remainder men in black before following them. Adele slowed her steps, and so did Henderson, who had been holding her hand. "What will happen to us?" She asked the stranger.

He briefly spared her a glance, then fixed his dark eyes to the front. "My men and I will try to find a way to stop the creature. In the mean time, you must flee this place before he finds you again."

"Are all of us in the same danger?" She asked.

"No." The man said firmly. "Those of you who opened the canopic chest are the ones who must fear the creature most."

"Wait," Henderson let go of her hand, then positioned himself in front of the leader. "There's someone else who was there when the chest was opened. They left before the night, though."

The leader fixed his intense gaze on the cowboy's blue eyes as he asked. "Who?"

* * *

 **A.N/: I've decided something, my dear readers. I shall _never_ again tell you a deadline for the next update, because it's obvious I don't meet it. Firstly, my apologies for taking so, so long to update the chapter. But I'm afraid college life is quite demanding, as you probably know. **

**Nevermind, I hope you enjoyed your reading! I had so much fun and angst writing this; my poor Mr. Daniels.**

 **Thank you so much to everyone who has read, followed, faved and reviewed! :) I have no clue when will be the next update, but I'll try to make the most from my Christmas break. Which also reminds me, merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it! *blows kisses***

 **Until next time!**

 **~Se acerca el invierno**

* * *

 _ **Beeswax**_ **= Business, i.e. None of your beeswax**

 _ **Moll**_ **= A gangster's girl**

 _ **Orchid =**_ **An expensive item**

 _ **Pipe down =**_ **Stop talking**

 _ **Pushover =**_ **A person easily convinced or seduced**

 _ **Hood =**_ **Hoodlum, gangster**

 _ **Dough =**_ **Money**

 _ **Dame =**_ **A female**

 _ **Cash =**_ **A kiss**


	10. IX Cursed's Fear

**_IX. Cursed's Fear_**

The Indian man put distance between them, mindlessly walking away and filled with never-ending relief to be out of that cursed place. Eleanor watched him go as he avidly counted the coins they had paid him for guiding them back to Cairo.

It was already nighttime when Bernie and her set foot inside Fort Brydon, the place seeming more affordable than any hotel. If they were not careful, the bucks they had saved for the journey back home would be spent. So they'd asked for a room for both of them to save money and stress, then her brother went straight to find out when did the next ship leave. The sooner, the better. Eleanor didn't doubt that was his excuse to go to the bar. After all, it was almost midnight; Bernie wasn't so stupid or candid to think that, whoever he bumped into at this hour of the night, would be reliable. So she feigned to believe his excuse, allowing him to go get a drink, and didn't bother to completely unpack. It was actually cute that he thought of her as so naive. Sighing for herself, she opened her baggage, merely looking for a new set of clothes, opting for a blouse and a skirt, deeming her pants as unnecessary now that they were gone from Hamunaptra. She left the clothes hanging from the side of the sink right before running the bathtub's cool water. Afterwards, she lowered herself into it, massaging her tense muscles and untangling her inked locks. She hoped Bernard wouldn't feel compelled to stop by the bar longer than necessary, for they couldn't waste their cash like that, not to mention she'd rather not be alone just yet. At least for longer than necessary; after all, that was the reason why they hadn't asked for separate rooms. She still felt the same anxiety and utter distrust that had invaded her earlier this day.

Eleanor hated how the thrill of adventure and danger had so easily turned into fear. This is what she had wanted... A part of her felt failure and a bruised ego were her punishment for walking out of the only adventure she was most likely to ever have in her whole life, but she hadn't been able to help herself. She let out a tired sigh as she rested her neck against the curve of the white-yellowish porcelain of the tub. Maybe she just wasn't done to be an adventurer... The thought saddened her to no end.

Some minutes later, she finally stepped out of her bath, wrapping herself in the robe hung on the door. She allowed her wet hair to come loose from the improvised bun she had created while washing, but when she was about to comb it she realized that, annoyingly enough, the brush still was in her baggage. Eleanor went back to the dorm and kneeled before the suitcase; she had to sink her hands into it, navigating them through every kind of garment until finally her fingertips brushed the desired object at the bottom. She held it out with her right hand as her left closed again the suitcase. Then, she stood up and turn around to stride back in front of the bathroom's mirror.

Her scream left her throat even before she could process what was going on, just as her feet unconciously took a step back, consequently making her stumble on the damn suitcase on the floor, by the bed. Thankfully, she spared herself the humilliation of actually falling onto her butt. The man clad in its brand black robes that Eleanor had come to both, know and fear so well, calmly lowered the scarf that had been covering his mouth and part of his nose. She nervously glanced at her dorm's closed door, shielded by the tall, dark man standing in front of it and boring holes into her face, seemingly searching for her eyes. It lasted a moment before she remembered the predicament she was in now; how in the name of God had he gotten inside here, soundlessly? In the blink of an eye, she tossed the hair brush against the intruder, faintly aiming for his head, then her legs sprinted for the open bathroom at her right. She could have almost winced at the deep groan that followed the slam of the door and the _click_ of the chain lock; with a bit of luck, perhaps she'd have managed to break her attacker's nose.

The man himself looked somewhat familiar, as did his tattoed cheeks. "Miss, I'm not here to hurt you." Said he from the other side of the door, with his thick accent ringing in each _r_ pronounced.

"You and your friends' actions say otherwise!" Snapped back she, her back painfully tensed and pressed against the wood. Her hearbeat was reaching miles per second, she was sure.

"Where's your brother?" Asked the man.

"Why do you want to know?" She questioned back, finally losing sight of her reflection in the mirror as, instead, she looked for a weapon, still not moving from her spot, as if that would prevent the strong, foreign -or was she the foreigner in this case?- intruder from kicking the door open and crushing her like a fly in the process.

"You both are in grave danger." Came the slightly muffled reply, making her utter a sarcastic chuckle.

"Says the man who raided a camp and set a boat of innocent tourists on fire..." She murmured to herself.

"Our actions were meant to prevent a greater evil from raising." Responded the bedouin, apparently hearing her perfectly and, consequently, making her jump in surprise. "And, thanks to you, we have failed." The man added sounding bitter.

"What kind of... protectors," Eleanor spatted the word, hoping her irony was so obvious that it could be palpable. "Resolve to murder innocents in order to save?"

A second of silence later, the man spoke again. "Back at the City of the Dead, the undead has been awoken," Said the warrior, impatiently. "Now the creature will hunt those who opened the chest and took the sacred canopic jars." She frowned in confusion, finding difficult to breathe normally. "You and your brother were there so I must ask, where is he?"

After another couple of deep breaths, Eleanor answered. "What do you mean the, _undead_ has been awoken? Who's after us?"

"It's a long story, but none of you is safe here." Safe from what, she wanted to ask. Nevertheless she didn't get the chance. "You should get dressed and open the door, miss. There's no time to waste."

"Time for what?" She angrily pursed her lips before snapping. "Who are you? Why are you telling me this?" She really _wished_ she knew where the hell Bernie was exactly!

"The blond man that was with you, he asked me to deliver a message for you. He said, _"tell Nellie she was right, ask her to book a damn ship and get us outta here. She was the only smart one"_. He also asked me to give you one of his girls, assuring it would be the only way to make you listen." Eleanor gulped. Why did she want to believe the stranger's words so badly?

She sighed before answering, her back still pressed against the door. "You could be lying, you could've taken anything from him after killing him." She felt tears forming at her eyes from the mere thought of imagining Henderson with a rain of bullets carved in his chest, delivered from this brutes.

"I'll leave the revolver at the foot of the door, on the floor. I'll tell you when to open and step out, once I've positioned myself at the opposite side of the room, if that makes you feel safer."

Eleanor flickered her watering eyes all over the small bathroom, before exhaling. "Fine." Less than a minute later, the accented voice, noticeably distant from the spot at the other side of the bathroom, called for her to open the door. And so she did, slowly, with trembling hands, before her blue eyes found the revolver, empty of bullets. She kept her glare fixed on the stranger, who true to his word was standing in the furthest wall from her spot, directly in front of her and well within her eyesight. She only allowed herself to look away from him and to the gun once she was holding it, carefully studying it and instantly recognising it, alongside the _HH_ rudely engraved in the metal.

"I am Ardeth Bay," The man said, making her realize he had walked up to the side of the bed, the piece of furniture being the only physical thing separating them. She could clearly watch his features now. "Leader of one of the twelve tribes of the Medjai. I'm telling you all of this because your lives, as may the whole world too, are in great danger. And my people and I need to find a way to stop the creature before he destroys everything on his way." He solemnly said, riveting her gaze with his own. Eleanor could've sworn she felt her chest tightening for more than just fear, and she was sure she had paled too. She took a sharp breath, surprised that he had actually answered her early questions in order.

For a moment she was the one searching his face, faintly wondering if in this culture it was considered inappropiate of a woman to look into a man's eyes, as something inside her head finally snapped as she recognized the voice and face before her. "You and your people... You killed many during the first night." Her hold on Howard's revolver tightened painfully. "Why should I believe you? How can I know you won't hurt me?" His impassive mask just angered her further. Did he have no emotions? "Give me just one good reason."

For what felt like the longest time, Eleanor tried to relax her body under his hard gaze, tensed in anticipation, but it was useless. The man unnerved her, and she was certain she'd never get her questions answered and be thrown over his shoulder, or maybe just knocked out, when Ardeth Bay finally told her. "One of the men that were with you, David Daniels. It's unlikely he'll survive if we don't take action." He took a step to his left, nearing the corner of the bed and closer to her rooted spot, their eyes clinged to the other.

She swallowed difficultly. "What happened to Dave?" Eleanor's mind buzzed with queries; how did the assassin before her know Dave's name? Why wouldn't he survive whatever had happened to him? How could she know if it was true?

"The creature mutilated him." Eleanor actually cringed, mentally scowling herself for showing weakness and assuming the man's words true. And given the brief emotion that passed over his face, the man had noticed the change in her behaviour too. "The undead will do the same to your brother and the rest of your friends if he's not stopped. Right now they're being led to Cairo as the rest of my men try to find a way to kill the creature, but we'll need help." The stranger's dark, piercing gaze briefly flickered all over her face before setting back on her blue eyes. "If you want to save them, you'll have to trust me. Because I'm your only choice."

Her gaze finally broke apart from Ardeth Bay to flicker nervously around the whole room. She couldn't think straight anymore. Maybe that's why she ended up nodding, just as her watering eyes found the assassin's black ones once more.

* * *

Bernard was too tempted to keep asking for shots, yet he knew he couldn't. Not if he wanted to see home again or stay in his sister's good side. So, instead, he looked uninterestedly at the empty glass he had drunk a while ago. To say he was quite depressed with how the journey had developed was an understatement.

His short-sighted eyes found the bag resting by his thigh. At least they got the trinket that rested inside there; well, better than go back empty-hand. It'd probably be easier to sell it back in the States anyway, and for a higher price too... One more shot couldn't hurt, right? He was about to raise his hand to call the bartender when two men flanked both of his sides, staring dead serious at the front. He glanced at each from the corner of his eye, a cold shiver going down his back. He recognized the tattoes that marked their faces and hands.

He gulped, weighing his options. He could sit still and wait, he could confront them, he could ignore them, he could shoot them with the revolver tucked inside his high boots... That option sounded like the most appealing. He briefly glanced behind him, over his shoulder, to check if there were more crazy psychos at his back. Instead, he froze upon seeing Eleanor standing at the entrance of the bar, another tattoed man in black standing by her side. Her teary eyes were looking at him intensely, pleading. When she saw she had his attention, she gestured with her head for him to come.

Bernard glared first at the man at his right, then the man at his left, both of them returning his glare with an unimpressed façade. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Finally, he got up from the stool, slamming the shot's glass onto the counter on his way.

* * *

Eleanor paced the room as she played with a long lock of her hair, aware that Ardeth Bay's gaze tended to rest on her just a bit longer than on her brother, who was pale as he sat down on the corner of the bed in their room. The two thugs that had come with the warrior stood outside, guarding the door. She allowed her glare to rest for a moment on the lion head of the jar before abruptly looking back to the front. She wanted to kick it.

She jumped out of her skin when Bernard slammed his boots against the floor, abruptly standing up. "All that bullshit makes no sense!" He snapped, shocked as the news Ardeth had told her sunk in his mind. "It's impossible!"

Her eyes kept glancing from him to the stranger, as if following a tennis match.

"It is true. You can ask your friends in the morning, once they arrive." He calmly responded with a stony mask. Eleanor gulped, wanting to intervene in the conversation, yet, too afraid to do so.

"No one can resurrect! Not our s'pposed God, much less some thousand-year-old mummy!" Bernie retorted, his voice loudly contrasting with the desert man's. "Curses an' Apocalypse?" His gaze set on her, making her almost flinch. "Ya really believe this guy an' his superstitous tale?" She briefly glanced between them again, both of the male's gazes deeply focused on her. She could've almost blushed. Thankfully, she didn't.

"I don't know what to believe." She admitted. "But I know that if Dave's hurt, I won't hesitate to do anything that's in my hand to help him." She added, wishing her voice sounded as determined as the situation required. She took a couple of steps towards her brother, her long skirt accompaying her leg's movements. "Bernie, if it's true, Dave isn't the only one who is being hunted..." She whispered, her voice almost trembling as they locked their eyes. And finally, Eleanor saw it: deep down, her brother was just as scared as she was, and unexplainably so.

"Your sister's right." Ardeth said, taking a step closer to them. "All of you who were present opening the chest will be targeted if the creature isn't stopped."

Eleanor turned so her body was facing his, taking a step forward herself. "And do you know how to stop him?"

Her heart dropped when the warrior imperceptibly shook his head. "The Medjai were taught to guard the City but not to fight such evil."

"So there's just _nothing_ to be done?" Tears of fear and frustration began to form in her eyes. She took another step, forgetting etiquette. "Am I supposed to stand and watch as that monster gets every single person I love?" She damned that instense, guarded gaze with all her inner strength. She noticed from the corner of her eye, Bernie had allowed his body to fall into a sitting position again, his hand coming to rest to his forehead. He looked so tired...

A moment later, Ardeth broke the silence. "I must see a friend and ask him about the matter. He may know if there's any hope." Eleanor set her lips in a firm line, blinking away the tears that had yet to fall. Why did she have to be such a goddamn crying baby?

"Very well. Then I'm coming with you." She stated, thanking that, for once, her nervousness hadn't made her voice tremble or lower itself.

Upon hearing that, Bernard recompossed himself and stood up. "And I'll go wherever she goes." The bedouin looked between both of them, making Eleanor wonder if the image of her and her brother, standing protectively at her back, resulted heroic in any sense to the mysterious Medjai, or simply pathetic. Finally, he nodded.

"Fine. We must hurry, then." He tilted his bearded chin towards the golden jar. "Take that with you, the creature must not get any of the sacred jars." Bernie handed her the object as he took all of his guns and cash, meanwhile Ardeth opened the door and said something in Arabic to the other two Medjai. They nodded, throwing them one last glare before disappearing. And so, the two siblings began to follow the other man to an unknown location. "Do any of you own a cat?" He asked out of the blue, not bothering to check if they were keeping up with his long, hurried strides. The few people they passed gave them funny looks.

"No, why ask?" Bernard questioned him back.

"Cats are the guardians of the Underworld, the creature will fear them until he has completed the curse." Eleanor frowned as Bernie voiced the questions she had just asked herself.

"Then why haven't ya bring one?" To Eleanor's surprise, the Medjai ignored them.

"You should find one and keep it with you at all times." He simply said, making her brother snort in disbelief, otherwise keeping silent.

Some minutes passed in which Eleanor occupied herself analyzing the voice of their guide. When he had talked in Arabic, she was sure he had heard it before somewhere else, but where? She knew it hadn't been during the raid, for he had talked in English there so all of them could understand his threats and warnings. The mere memory was enough to make her shiver. She studied his broad shoulders and armored back. Could it be possible that he, alongside the rest of the Medjai, were a sect instead of a secret society -as Ardeth claimed- and that the tale of the mummy was a superstition? Maybe an hallucination he and his people had? It sounded far more plausible. Eleanor prefered to deal with crazy, real people rather than that that she had no clue how to handle or fight. It was human nature, after all: the unknown was scary. In fact, wasn't that the reason why she had forced Bernie and herself to leave Hamunaptra?

The American nurse could've bumped into the Medjai had it not been for her brother's hand softly grasping her forearm. He lowered his hand, instead holding her own. Eleanor briefly looked at the gesture, surprised to find that she didn't mind it, opposite to what she'd normally think. The Burns' siblings had only held hands when they were less than 9 years old, usually as they explored some new place. Eleanor felt that had been such a long time ago, just like her anger for the bootlegging business he was currently involved in. The perspective of dying, of truly losing him, was all too compelling. Snapping out of it, she glanced up to the entrance of a new, great building. **"Cairo Museum of Antiquities"**

Ardeth led them to a back door as he entered into the place, like it was his own home, confidently navigating them through the empty corridors. The thought made her wonder, did he have a family somewhere? If so, did they know what he and his gang did, all of the blood that stained their hands? Did they mind it? Before she realized, they found themselves at the entrance of a spacious and richly decorated office. Her gaze immediately found a second Egyptian man sitting behind a desk, scribbling something down in a small piece of paper. He looked up just as Ardeth opened the door without bothering to knock, apparently not surprised of seeing them there. He left the pen he held on the desk and stood. "I presume the rest haven't arrived yet." Said his accented voice, not as deep as Ardeth's, ignoring the two Americans.

" _Laa_. They won't arrive until the dawn." Ardeth answered, walking up to the desk. The other man glanced distrustfully at them.

"And with them they'll bring the curse as well." A last glance, then the two Egyptian men locked eyes as they talked. "I don't know what do you expect me to do. We've never faced something like this before."

Before the younger man could reply, Eleanor found herself clearing her throat, dragging the attention of the three men to her. A second later, Ardeth spoke to save her from the tense silence that had formed. "This man and her sister were in Hamunaptra when the chest was opened. They were the only ones to listen and leave too." Eleanor wished she could read the impassive mask that the face of Ardeth Bay was to her as he looked at her while speaking.

A small, ironical snort sounded before the second man answered. "Obviously not fast enough."

Bernard took a step forward. "There must be somethin' we can do." He didn't bother to specify. "If that thing can be awoken, surely it can be put to sleep too."

Eleanor caught glimpse of the nametag resting on the desk as the man which it adressed completely faced her brother, taking a step forward himself. "No mortal weapons can defeat such power, sir. Ancient curses aren't awoken regularly, and for good reason." Terrence Bey, as the nametag read, solemnly said.

"Does... the creature, have any weakness we can take advantage of?" Eleanor found herself asking, gulping for the renewed attention. "We already know he fears cats. But that won't keep him away forever."

"No, it won't." Mr. Bey agreed. "We must look into history and see if our predecesors left any clues behind, at least while we wait for the rest of your party. The archives of the museum are at our entire disposition, but time marches fast, miss. We can't afford rest." Eleanor nodded before looking away.

"All of them will want answers too. I'll go with Miss Burns to the lower section." Eleanor quickly looked back to Ardeth upon hearing this, her gaze instantly avoiding his and looking for her brother, who was already speaking.

"Why do she have to go with ya?"

Mr. Bey was who answered. "I seriously doubt any of you has the slightest idea about Ancient Egypt history, sir. It will be more beneficial if we split." He walked back to his desk as he added. "Not to mention, we are warriors opposed to simple gunmen. Both of you will be safer with one of us than if you limit yourself to fire bullets aiming for every suspicious shadow." The scathing answer had hit the nail, all too logically.

Bernard and Eleanor exchanged a brief glance before both nodded, the nurse feeling grateful for the small hand-gun Bernard had insisted on giving to her and which was safely secured in her right boot, hidden by her long skirt. Ardeth and Mr. Bey exchanged some words in Arabic before the first advanced towards her. "Follow me."

And so she did, fighting the urge to glance one last time over her shoulder at her brother. The pair kept going down some stairs until they reached some sort of basement. At the sight, Eleanor stopped dead in her tracks, tense. She could already feel the sweat and the aches. Ardeth stopped as he was about to open the door to gaze at her. In an instant, he had let go of the door handle and walked closer to her, still keeping the safety distance of her personal space.

"You don't need to fear me." His voice, gentler than she had ever expected, surprised her, making her frown a bit. It seemed like that only prompted the desert man to explain further. "My people and I do not kill or bring harm to others out of pleasure. Besides, you are no good dead, Miss Burns." She gulped, their eyes once again clinged to the other.

So, he had mistaken her claustrophoby for fear towards him. Nevertheless, she thanked his apparently sincere words. They soothed her a bit. "I actually am afraid of small, closed spaces, or underground locations which are too dark or small." She took a deep breath.

"I see..." Said he, turning back around and opening the door. "Wait here." He threw over his shoulder, and she happily obliged. The black robes he wore fused with the darkness of the corridor, making his shilouette practically indistinguishable. Then, a bright light came from the doorway and she walked closer. A bit ahead, Ardeth gestured for her to come in. Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the now illuminated, spacious room. It didn't feel like it was practically underground. She followed the Medjai until they stopped at one of the various tables that occupied the place, alongside several bookshelves littered with manuscrits, papers and books of all sort. Her eyes wandered over them curiously.

"What's this place exactly?" Eleanor asked, nearing one of the shelves and carefully picking a random book. She opened it, disappointed upon encountering Arabic writing, which obviously enough she failed to understand. Ardeth appeared at her side, gently taking the book from her.

"This is the Museum's department of archives. At least part of it." He swiftly left the book on the nearly empty table while he kept speaking. "Here we may find something useful..." He nearly muttered the last part, as if forgetting she was there. The American studied him as he took more and more documents. She was about to offer help when, finally, he placed the pile that had accumulated in his arms on the table. Then, his quick fingers made two different piles before finally looking back at her. "These texts are written in English," He placed his right hand on top of the mentioned pile. "They mainly refer to the 19th Egyptian dynasty and the royal family's history, some will talk about religion and culture. While you study them I'll take care of the rest."

Eleanor hesitasted for a moment before walking up to the man's side, her smaller hands taking the first manuscrits of the pile. "What's the legend? The story your people know?" She found herself asking after some minutes in silence, not averting her eyes from the royal habits the pharaohs tended to follow. She damned herself for even striking up conversation with him, the man who lead a party of butchers. She still remembered how she had gone checking the pulse of every single digger that had been killed at the camp, confirming their deaths.

After a moment, he indulged her curiosity. "The creature once had a name, and was human before becoming the undead. He was High Priest of the Pharaoh, Seti I, and keeper of the dead. He was cursed after murdering the pharaoh and attempting to resurrect the woman he loved, the pharaoh's mistress, who also died. As punishment, he was sentenced to be buried alive and cursed with the Hom Dai, the worst of all. It is said, if the creature were to rise from the dead he would bring along with him the ten plagues of Egypt, extending his curse to all mankind."

Eleanor frowned, leaving the paper she had been holding onto the table. That just didn't make sense to her. "Why condemn all of mankind for the wrongs of a single man? He was tortured enough when he was buried alive, and supposedly in the afterlife too." She stated. An instant later, she shook her head before facing the warrior. He had been watching her. "What kind of curse gives more power to a sinner than it takes from him?" They kept a gaze contest until Eleanor realized just that it must have been a full minute since they made eye-contact and that he didn't seem willing, or capable, of giving her an answer. Faintly blushing, she turned back to the books and papers scattered in front of her. Her feet and legs were beginning to ache. One or two moments later, she found herself speaking again. "You said he was once had a name. Which was it?"

A second later, he replied. "Imhotep."

Eleanor wasn't sure what had she expected, but guessed that was as good of a name as any other. She wanted to pull out her hair. Why was she acting as if she believed this so called priest had resurrected to take vengeance on the world? It was impossible. A little annoyed with herself, she harshly moved aside the books she had already checked concerning pure history facts and decided to focus on the texts concerning religious practices. If the enemy was a priest, it was just logical to get to know him, wasn't it? She couldn't help but turn her head upon hearing Ardeth speak again.

"Why did you leave Hamunaptra?" Now she saw he was the one all too focused on staring at the documents. "Your friend told me you were the only one who insisted."

She gulped before answering. "I didn't really believe in your warnings, other than the one that you and your men would come back." That attracted his attention, which she answered by avoiding his stare. "Death is not worth some ancient gold in my eyes." She muttered. Ardeth must have been at a loss for words since she was answered with silence. A silence she, for some reason, couldn't bear. "Our mother is sick, back in America." From the corner of her eye, she noticed the Medjai staring at her as he listened. "She's stable, although not recovered. She may heal completely once we get the medicines. And for that we need money..." She almost whispered the last line. What did it matter if this stranger judged them or not? Why did she care enough to give him an explanation? "Besides," She carried on. "My brother and I have other expenses." Like their parents' care, at least partially, like Bernie's upcoming wedding, like her own studies and independance... Eleanor guessed such a trivial things could be sacrificed if necessary. Well, her spinsterhood and the wedding could be.

If Ardeth was going to give her an answer, it fell on deaf ears as she frowned, noticing something interesting written on the manuscrit she held. It read, **"...By honoring the principle of harmony or ma'at, personified as a goddess of the same name holding the white feather of truth, and living one's life in accordance with its precepts, one was aligned with the gods and the forces of light against the forces of darkness and chaos, and assured one's self of a welcome reception in the Hall of Truth after death and a gentle judgment by Osiris, the Lord of the Dead."**

"Here," She pointed, prompting the Medjai to stand closer as he watched over her shoulder. Eleanor decided to ignore the intimacy of the gesture, for her sake. "From what you told me, Imhotep broke that principle. Wouldn't that play in our favor? Can't we use some ritual or spell calling on Osiris for help so he can restort that harmony?" She risked a glance over her shoulder, their heads too close for her liking, even though not breaking their personal space. The Medjai had a slight frown on his forehead.

"The only way Imhotep could have been brought back is if someone read from the Book of the Dead." Eleanor resisted the urge to point out how unoriginal the name was. "The legends say the Book has a sort of counterpart, which reverses its effects. The Book of the Living."

Eleanor fully turned around, failing to keep her shoulder from touching the chest of the warrior in the process. "Then we could just read the opposite spell to counteract the curse!"

Ardeth shook his head before explaining. "It's not as simple. On a start, the location of the Book of the Living is unknown, although there's a good chance that it's hidden somewhere in Hamunaptra."

She took a step forward, forgetting both of their personal space. "Then we'll look for it! Your people has guarded the City for millenniums, you must know well the place, even if you don't know the Book's location."

"Even if we found the Book soon enough to prevent the creature from consuming those who are now cursed, its writing is not similar to any modern dialect." He said, making her frown. "Only someone who speaks and reads Ancient Egyptian could read out loud the spell from the Book, Miss Burns." She heaved a sigh, feeling defeated.

"There must be at least one person able to do so. The same one who woke Imhotep in the first place!" After what felt like an eternity, Ardeth nodded.

"Yes, you're right." Eleanor sighed one more time, this time allowing a small degree of relief to flood through her veins. Ardeth extended his arm, and just as she was about to blush, he reached from behind her and grasped half of the manuscrits that laid on the table. He turned around then, placing them in their respective shelves. Within a minute, he had cleared the entire table and had turned to face her. "Come, we must tell your brother and Terrence."

* * *

Eleanor kept her gaze focused on the dark ceiling of their room at Fort Brydon. She couldn't sleep. Her brother, on the other side of the bed, had been snoring for almost ten minutes now though. He was too tired to worry; plus, the shot he had got at the beginning of the night was quite helpful to get to sleep. Maybe she should've taken one herself.

Instead, she replayed in her head once and again all of the events that had occurred since she had found Ardeth Bay in this very same bedroom. After they had got back from the basement, both of them had explained their theory to Bernie, at first skeptical as ever, and to Mr. Bey, who had listened silently, stroking his goatee in contemplation. Then, he too had voiced his agreement as well. Problem was, all of them were tired, and nevertheless they would have to wait for all the rest to arrive to Cairo. According to Mr. Bey's asumptions, Miss Jennings herself, or more likely one of her two British friends, must have been the ones to read from the Book of the Dead. And, in spite of being certain that Imhotep would bring the plagues with him, they still had no clue of what would he do if he managed to consume the curse and regenerate himself. Gulping, she moved her head to watch her brother's sleeping form. She did so for a good while. What would she do if he...? Abruptly, she closed her eyes and gave him her back so she was laying on her side, one hand beneath the cool pillow. She refused to even think about the possibility.

If that wasn't enough, a small part of her kept watching all of the interactions she had had with Ardeth Bay in her mind. Moreover, an even smaller part of her brain knew she was missing something, and that it had to do with the equally handsome and intimidating Medjai. She rubbed her forehead, trying to focus.

Tomorrow, first light in the morning, they would wake up and greet the others, afterwards heading straight for the Museum to devise a plan. And, in the way, she would make sure to fetch an entire army of cats if that served to keep Imhotep away from her loved ones.

* * *

 **A.N/: Forgive the very, very late update. My life's been quite a havoc recently. Nevermind, here's the new chapter! Even if a bit of transition, I assure you all the stuff that happened here is relevant to some extent for the plot I have in mind. Anyway, I assure you next chapter will be awfully interesting ;)**

 **I'm afraid, seeing I was in such a hurry to update, I didn't add any 1920's slang, although that can be spared this time, seeing that the crucial points and information of this chapter are untouched. Even so, next time I'll make sure to find the time to add that accurate flavor the period slang provides. I also apologize for all the grammar and spelling I surely have overlooked; I'll try to fix it soon.**

 **Thank you so much to everyone who has read, followed, faved and reviewed! Hope you enjoy this chapter too.**

 **~Se acerca el invierno**


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